Fractures
by Tragediane
Summary: An earthquake creates a fracture in G's life, causing his life to unravel. Sam rides the aftershocks with his partner, trying to keep G's life from spiraling down into a deep despair. G/Sam slash. Squick: Childhood violence & PTSD. Updated chapters.
1. Rope, Prologue

This story will be uploaded slower than my other stories. I make no apologies for updating my story at a slower pace. Life happens and I cannot control it.

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><p><strong>AUTHOR'S NOTES:<strong>

**Title: Fractures**

**Rating: M**

**Story Premise: **An earthquake creates a fracture in G's life, causing his life to unravel. Sam rides the aftershocks with his partner, trying to keep G's life from spiraling down into a deep despair.

**Category: **A science fiction/romance/hurt/comfort novel.

**WARNINGS:**

**Slash: G/Sam**

**Darkfic: **Story includes angst, violence, betrayal, hurt/comfort, mental, emotional, and physical trauma. Squick for childhood violence. Squick for Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.

**Whump: **Major G Callen whump ahead.

**DISCLAIMER: **NCIS: Los Angeles and its characters are owned by CBS and the producers of it. I do not own anything, but if I did I would torture G Callen more and make him cry and suffer and have plenty of angst. I am grateful to CBS and the producers of NCIS: LA for their contribution to the world of entertainment.

_My stories are a work of __**my**__ imagination and I do not ascribe them to the official story canon__. This is a work intended for entertainment __**outside the official storyline**__ owned by CBS and the producers of NCIS:LA._ I gain no profit from the creation and publication of this story. I love to play in the sandbox with the characters and their lives. I especially love to torture G Callen. It is fun!

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><p><strong>Reviews appreciated and welcomed.<strong>

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><p><strong>Rope<strong>

**Prologue**

The tall, broad-shouldered man grabbed the blond haired boy's hand and brought him over to a secluded place in the marine supply store. "I told you never to call me by my real name in public," he said, chastising him.

The young boy cringed and his eyes drifted down to his well worn sneakers.

"Damn you, look me in the eye when I speak to you!" The man pushed the boy's chin upward from underneath. "What's my name, boy?"

He trembled. "Dad, sir, sorry," he said with a quaking timbre, his eyes wetting with tears.

"Better, much better, boy," he said. "Go purchase _your_ rope."

"I did not do it." Tears threatened to spill over his long, blond eyelashes.

"Get the rope or get punished, now!" The man pointed to the back of the warehouse.

The boy turned toward his destination. The rope. He plodded down the long aisle, his head hung low and his shoulders slumped forward. Upon reaching the rope dispensing area of the store, he waited by the rope his Dad instructed him to buy. After a salesperson failed to show up, the young boy edged closer to a counter where a salesman was talking to another customer.

"Hey there son, what can I do for ya?"

"I need rope, sir," he said, pointing back toward the huge reels of rope and line.

"Polite lad, I'll be with you in a moment."

The boy turned back the way he came and positioned himself next to the rope reel his Dad had chosen.

A few minutes later, the salesman crossed the short distance between his checkout counter and the rope reels. "What can I do for ya, son?"

"I need this rope, sir, twice my height."

"Hm, twice your height?" The salesman grabbed the tape measure hanging next to the rope reels. "Now, why do ya need a rope this long, son?" He asked while measuring the young boy.

"Cause Dan—Dad said I do, sir," he said, faltering and stuttering on his Dad's real name. He blushed after his mistake and hoped the man he had to call his Dad was not nearby to overhear the blunder.

"It's a good idea to follow yer Dad's orders." The salesman rolled out the rope with a hand crank on the side of huge reel. Afterwards, he stretched the rope out on the floor and laid the tape measure next to it. He cut the rope to the desired length with a box-cutter.

When he saw the box cutter, the boy's eyes widened and he cringed. He squeezed his eyes shut as images flooded his mind with scary pictures of his Dad with a box-cutter. The boy wanted to run. He was frozen in place.

"Son, are you all right?" The salesman gently touched the boy's arm.

The young boy jerked backward. His eyes flashed open. He opened his mouth to scream. Nothing came out.

"I won't hurt ya, son," the salesman said, "here's yer rope." He handed the boy a crisp, white ticket too.

"Thank you, sir, sorry," the boy said, grasping the smooth, white, coiled rope with one hand and placing it over a shoulder and grabbed the ticket with the other hand.

"No problem," the salesman said, turning back toward his counter at the opposite end of the store.

The young boy hurried down the aisle knowing his Dad would be furious with his delay in getting the rope to him faster. Hurry, hurry, hurry. If you do not, get punished. His Dad was still in the spot where he had left him, hands on his hips. The boy stopped in front of him and dropped the rope into his hands.

The man flipped the boy around and grabbed the back of his neck. "March, young man, to the check out counter," he said, pinching and squeezing the skin on the back of his boy's neck. He clenched his teeth to control the rage boiling within him. "Not another word from your disgusting mouth, boy."

The young boy stood at the check out counter and trembled from head to foot. He watched his Dad pay for the rope and wondered what punishment the man would soon wield on him.

The man pushed the boy through the exit doors and toward their dirty, brown step van. "Get in!"

The blond haired boy jumped into the step van and plodded past the cab into the storage area. He turned to face his Dad.

"What the hell was that about?"

He trembled.

"You talked to someone."

"I had to ask him, I need the rope guy to help me, that's all I said."

"Liar!" The man threw the rope at the boy's feet. "I told you again and again never to speak to anyone."

"How can I get—"

The man flipped the boy around and grabbed his left forearm. "I'll teach you to never talk out of turn again." With a few swift movements, the man broke the largest bone in his boy's forearm. He released him.

The blond haired boy shrieked and fell to the wood covered floor, grabbing his forearm and writhing in pain.

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><p>Thanks for reading.<p> 


	2. Threat, CH 1

**Title: Fractures**

**Rating: M**

**Slash Warning: **G/Sam

** Story Details and Full Disclaimer on Prologue Page: **_My stories are a work of __**my**__ imagination and I do not ascribe them to the official story canon__. _This is a work intended for entertainment _outside the official storyline_ owned by CBS and the producers of NCIS:LA.

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><p><strong>Reviews appreciated and welcomed.<strong>

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><p><strong>Threat<strong>

**Chapter 1**

G studied the intel he had compiled on his personal iPad2. He still had no idea who this unsub was. As far as he knew the threats were real. While he convinced Sam of a viable threat, he failed to convince anyone else at NCIS. Director Vance, Hetty, and the rest of the team doubted the authenticity of the threats.

Sam parked his Challenger exactly where G had told him to wait. "Well?"

"I didn't get this wrong if that's what you're thinking." He sighed and studied the horizon before them. An odd ripple in the road. He rubbed his eyes. It could not be true. The unsub, who had contacted him earlier in the day, said he would not act on his promises if G followed through and met him at the First Street Bridge in Los Angeles. He glanced down at his iPad2 and checked the location a second time.

Sam grasped his partner's forearm. "G!"

"Damn, you almost made me drop my—"

"Forget about that, did you see that?" He pointed to the horizon.

"See what?"

"Look at the bridge."

"You saw it too," G said. "I didn't imagine it."

"Watch it again." Sam pointed to the bridge.

This time a taller ripple rolled over the ground. The roadway lifted upward with the ripple and settled back down into place as if nothing had happened.

"Let's get out of here." He started up the Challenger's engine.

G grasped his partner's forearm. "No, we need to wait."

"Wait to get killed if these ripples get any bigger."

"He said to wait here," he said. "I know he'll be here."

"Maybe he wanted you here to kill you," Sam said. "Did that ever cross your mind?"

"Damn it." He scanned the bridge. His jaw dropped. This ripple was twice the height as the last one. "The Effect, he promised he wouldn't use it."

"He lied." He backed up as fast as he could without turning his head to look over his shoulder. Sam kept his eyes on the ripple as it advanced toward them. No traffic. The area had been evacuated earlier. With enough room to make and finish a U-turn, Sam made his move. At that moment, the ground shook violently under the Challenger. He threw the transmission into park and set the emergency brake. "Get down. Protect your face and head."

G flattened himself against the seat.

"No, in the backseat. Hurry!"

He scrambled into the backseat and laid prone, burying his face in the seat near the Challenger's frame. G shoved his iPad2 under his chest. He covered his head with his hands and arms.

Sam flattened himself across the front seat, covering his head with his hands and arms.

The ground continued to shake. The Challenger bounced all over the road. Buildings around them shook and began to crumble. A roaring and crunching noise as loud as a jet engine screamed all around them. The shaking and the noise stopped. A deafening silence followed.

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><p>Thanks for reading.<p> 


	3. The Effect, CH 2

**Title: Fractures**

**Rating: M**

**Slash Warning: **G/Sam

** Story Details and Full Disclaimer on Prologue Page: **_My stories are a work of __**my**__ imagination and I do not ascribe them to the official story canon__. _This is a work intended for entertainment _outside the official storyline_ owned by CBS and the producers of NCIS:LA.

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><p><strong>Reviews appreciated and welcomed<strong>

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><p><strong>The Effect<strong>

**Chapter 2**

Sam came to full consciousness and remembered where he was. He attempted to roll over to check out his partner in the backseat. Something had crushed the roof of the Challenger forcing it down onto the top of front seat and making it impossible to roll toward the backseat. "G!" Sam yelled. His voice reverberated against the Challenger's metal roof and echoed. He needed to find a way out of this death trap and soon. Sam kicked the driver's door frame. The door creaked. After scooting closer to the door and bending his knees as much as he could in the now cramped space, he thrust his legs outward again and kicked the door frame. This time the door made a moaning-like sound. Sam stopped and listened, hoping he did not destroy his only hope of not getting crushed to death in the car. He recoiled his knees again and kicked harder. The door gave way. Sam shimmied out through the open and now bent driver's door. He laid on the sidewalk for a few minutes to catch his breath. After performing a quick assessment of his body, he found one injury—a minor scrap to his forehead head. He hoped there was no concussion. Sam needed his wits about him to help his partner.

The Challenger no longer sat in the middle of the street where he was forced to park it. His jaw dropped as Sam took in the massive destruction all around him. Most of the buildings were destroyed. The 1st Bridge was intact though, something he had not expected to find. The passenger's side of the car was slammed up against a half-destroyed building. A huge pillar from the building had crashed onto the roof, crushing the roof and shoving it into front seats. He knew the only way to get his partner out was by removing the driver's front seat and dragging G out the driver's side door. Sam needed to rely on his strength alone. He doubted he could retrieve his tools from the trunk of his car. His last resort, entering through the car's trunk.

At first, he wrenched on the seat with both arms. Several attempts to move the seat even an inch failed. He laid on his back, recoiled his legs and kicked the seat. Nothing. Not even a creak from the seat. It had to be bolted to the floor. The weight of the Challenger's ceiling on the driver's seat did not help the situation. Sam rested for a few minutes. The trunk. He grabbed the keys from the ignition and strode to the back of the totaled car. The trunk was mangled. The key hole was intact. After he unlocked it, the trunk failed to automatically open as it usually did. Sam yanked on the trunk. It sprung open. He pulled everything out of the trunk including the spare tire. Armed with the spare tire changing kit's lift handle, he started to dig through the dividing wall between the trunk and the back seat. An easy option was to kick it down. A breach of the wall separating the trunk and the back seat with a sudden kick could further injure his partner. He settled for the longer, more tedious method.

Sam took a breather about every ten minutes and called his partner's name. No answer. Not good. Not good at all.

After pounding away on the wall between the trunk and the backseat for almost a half an hour, he broke through. "G!"

"Sam."

He heard his partner's weak voice answer him. "Are you hurt?" Nothing. "G, talk to me." A soft groan was the only answer. Not good. Sam backed out of the trunk and searched through his belongings now laying on the sidewalk. He found a pair of work gloves, grabbed the four-way lug wrench, and climbed back into the trunk. "I'm gonna get you out of there." Sam pounded on the area where he had made a hole into the trunk wall. He pushed upward not wanting to hit his partner in one his more aggressive lunges with the lug wrench. After he had opened up a large enough hole, Sam donned his work gloves and started ripping the wall down with his hands. Another half hour and he created a hole big enough to pull his partner through. "G?" A soft groan again. "I'm gonna pull you through into the trunk." Sam reached through the hole and wrapped his arms around his partner's shoulders.

G shrieked and shuddered.

"Sorry, man, this is the only way to get you out of there." Sam yanked on his partner's shoulders and pulled him into the trunk. When he managed to bring more than half his partner's body into the trunk he noticed the injuries. Blood oozed from a cut on G's left arm. It was even possible the arm was broken. His torso was cut up especially on his back. Sam climbed out of the trunk and pulled his partner clear of the backseat. He gently turned him over onto his back and examined his left forearm. It was more than a scrap. The larger bone in G's arm was sticking out through the skin. A compound fracture. Damn it. Sam rummaged through his belongings again searching for his first aid kit and two rods or sticks to stabilize his partner's arm.

"Sam." He mumbled in a semi-conscious state. "iPad2."

"Right here, trying to find something to stabilize your arm." He searched the surrounding rubble for anything he could use on G's arm. "I'll get it after I fix your arm." Only one stick. One was better than nothing. Sam returned to his partner's side and wrapped the stick in strips from an old flannel work shirt. Several times he thought about throwing the dang thing out. He ended up keeping it in his trunk. It was a comfortable shirt to wear on LA's cooler fall and winter evenings. His wife had encouraged him to toss it too. Still it remained in his car stuffed into one corner of the trunk. He ripped off more strips of the flannel shirt for tying the stick to his partner's broken arm. Sam wrapped G's forearm using the covered stick for stabilizing the bones. "This is gonna hurt. I need to tighten this down. Sorry, man." He cinched the flannel strips tight against his partner's forearm.

G shrieked and writhed.

"Easy, man, damn it." Sam's eyes welled up with tears. He hated inflicting pain on anyone, especially his partner. Two more times he cinched down the flannel strips. Sam noticed a thin sheen of sweat covering G's face, neck, and chest. He needed to get his partner warmed up before he went into shock. In spite of the balmy temperature outside, eighty degrees, and G's long sleeve, blue t-shirt, his partner's skin was cool and clammy to the touch. After lifting G's legs over the trunk's edge, he lifted him into his arms and carried him away from the Challenger, settling him down at the curb. He laid G back onto the sidewalk. Sam gathered items he would need and stuffed them into his small backpack and hoisted it over his right shoulder. He crouched down where G was and helped him to his feet. "Can you walk?"

"Carry, please." He mumbled and slumped forward.

Sam adjusted his backpack to both shoulders and lifted G into his arms. "Glad you've laid off the donuts lately." He started walking toward LAPD's downtown station.

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><p><strong># # #<strong>

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><p>Sam lowered G to the ground around the corner from a full on view of LAPD'S downtown station. "Stay here."<p>

"No," G said, his voice quavering from shaking chills which threatened to crumble his defenses and the excruciating pain in his left forearm.

"Man, don't argue with me."

"Don't lie to me, damn it, I need to see what happened to it."

Sam sighed. He helped his partner to his feet. "Promise me this one thing."

"What?"

"You won't lose it."

"How can I lose what I haven't found?" G winked at him.

"Whatever." Sam wrapped an arm around his partner's waist and turned the corner.

Both of their jaws dropped wide open. The building was literally cut into two equal pieces. Each part hung by the framing and cross structure, but tilted backward away from each other. It looked as if a gigantic knife had sliced through the building and divided it in half as if it were a huge birthday cake. Every window was shattered.

"Damn it, this isn't good," G said with labored slow breaths. Nausea now accompanied the rising pain in his forearm.

From across the four lane street, a disheveled looking man yelled at them.

Sam drew his gun ready to protect his partner and himself. When the man started to cross the street, Sam shoved G behind him. "Stay there," he said, lowering his voice. "You're in no condition to protect yourself." It was not until the man had reached the middle of the four lane road that Sam recognized him.

"Sam, Callen," Deeks said, "thought you two were toast after that quake. So the effect is real."

"Yeah, it's real," G said, stepping out from behind Sam. He held his left forearm with his right hand, keeping it from falling to his side.

He stepped closer to Callen. "It looks broken."

"It is." He shuddered.

"Got a truck load of passengers going to the hospital," Deeks said, motioning for Callen and Sam to follow him.

Sam glanced sideways at his partner.

"Sounds good to me." G answered without telling his partner any more information.

The three of them crossed the deserted four lane, downtown street. G and Sam settled into the front seat of a SUV next to Deeks.

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><p><strong># # #<strong>

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><p>After Deeks dropped G and Sam off at the ambulatory emergency department entrance, G stopped shy of the door and turned sideways to glance at his partner. "Are you staying?"<p>

Sam placed his hands on his hips. "Would it make a difference?"

"What's with this conversation?" He expected an answer not another question. G started to walk away.

Sam caught up with his partner, matching him stride for stride. "You're not gonna get that treated."

"No."

"Like hell you're not." He pushed his partner toward a darkened alcove to the side of the emergency department. "What do you think you're doing, man?" G started to turn to face his partner. Sam shoved him against a wall, placing pressure on the back of his neck.

G pushed backward hard, trying to release himself. "What the hell are you doing, man?"

Sam redoubled his efforts, pressing his body against his partner's body and holding him tight against the red brick wall.

"My arm, watch out for my arm, damn it." G panted and winced.

"I suggest you go back to the emergency department before I call Hetty and tell her your condition."

"Screw you!"

"What's gotten into you?"

"You pushing me against this wall."

Sam wrapped his arms around G's waist. "As for myself," he said, "I rather like this position."

G glanced over his right shoulder. "What?"

"I think we need to get a room."

His jaw dropped. "What the hell?"

"I saw a nice hotel about two blocks away," Sam said. "Let's go."

"It's the aerosol drug talking, man."

"The what?"

"The aerosol drug which is dispensed into the air at the time of the earthquake," G said.

"So it's real too?"

He sighed. "Yeah, I told you how it's released when the earthquake hits."

"How long do its affects last?"

"Unknown, the unsub never disclosed that information."

Sam stepped backward and flipped G around to face him. He pushed him against the wall again. After placing his hands on either side of his partner's head, he leaned his upper body in closer. "I like the effects of this drug."

"What?"

Sam enveloped G's mouth with his and kissed him hard. The kiss left him breathless and wanting more. He wrapped an arm around the back of his partner's neck and cupped his chin in his huge, dark, sinewy hand.

G squirmed, trying to free himself from his partner's grip. "Sam, stop, this… we—"

Sam kissed G harder this time, forcing his tongue into his partner's hot mouth and holding him tight against his body.

G stopped struggling and returned a hotter more passionate kiss, leaving them both breathless.

Sam released his partner and wrapped an arm around his waist. "Let's go."

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><p><strong># # #<strong>

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><p>Sam shoved G through the hotel room's open doorway, slammed the door shut and forced his partner against it. He planted more hot kisses on the man's lips. "I want you."<p>

"I should go back to the hospital and get this—"

"Treated, is that your cop out you're now using, it's lame."

"This isn't a good idea—"

Sam started to remove his own chocolate brown T-shirt. "Get your shirt off."

"The drug is screwing with your mind."

"No, you're screwing with my mind." He threw his T-shirt on the red and purple carpet at their feet. Sam helped G out of his T-shirt. "Yeah, now we're talking."

"No, you're screwed up."

"Not quite, but I will be soon," he said, leading G over to the California king-sized bed. "Sit." He grabbed several small bottles of alcohol from the in-room small refrigerator. "Drink up."

"You're not getting me drunk." He pushed his partner's hand away.

"It'll take the edge off that pain in your arm," Sam said. "And relax you for our further adventures ahead." He sat next to his partner, wrapped an arm around his waist, and offered him a bottle of hard liquor again.

G's jaw dropped and his eyes widened. He read the label, whiskey. "This is used for mixing—"

"We're mixing business with pleasure, now drink up."

He eyed his partner and took a swig. G smacked his lips. "Damn, that's stronger than I remember it was the last time I had some." It burned his throat. The heat felt good though.

"It's because of your adrenalin rush and your injury," Sam said. "Bottoms up."

G finished the bottle and took the second one his partner handed to him. "All of this too?"

"Yeah, I want you relaxed."

He took one long swig of the dark rum. "Man, I'm getting a rush from this one."

"A rush?" Sam grabbed the bottle from him and took a swig. "Smooth." He handed it back to his partner. "Finish it and follow it with this last one."

Gin. Damn. G finished the third bottle with a couple of swigs. He laid back on the bed. "I'm officially relaxed."

"Good," Sam said, lying down next to him. He grabbed the empty bottles and set them on the floor. "Time for some smooching."

"Sam, there's one problem."

"And that is?"

"You're married."

"Was remember, now separated." He sighed. "Three months ago she left to go to her mother's for a visit and never returned."

"I forgot you told me about that," G said, "must be the alcohol. But this, I mean I don't know if this is a good idea. We're partners and it's gonna mess up everything and—"

Sam drew his partner into him and kissed him hard on the lips. "You'll love what I have planned."

"It's the drug, man, it's screwing with—"

"The only thing that's gonna be screwing is me," he said, pushing G back onto the bed and straddling his hips. He leaned over and kissed him again. "Don't worry, I'll go slow."

G's mouth hung open.

"What?"

"Damn, you're sexy," he said, smiling and slurring his speech.

"Yeah, you too and you're drunk." Sam climbed off the bed and entered the bathroom. He returned with a bottle of lotion.

"I never—"

"I told you not to worry, man, I'll go slow and I'll be gentle."

"Have you done it with… a man?"

"Nope, first time for everything," Sam said. "The blind leading the blind."

G grinned wide. "No, the intoxicated leading the intoxicated."

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><p>Thanks for reading.<p> 


	4. The Aftereffects, CH 3

**Title: Fractures**

**Rating: M**

**Slash Warning: **G/Sam

** Story Details and Full Disclaimer on Prologue Page: **_My stories are a work of __**my**__ imagination and I do not ascribe them to the official story canon__. _This is a work intended for entertainment _outside the official storyline_ owned by CBS and the producers of NCIS:LA.

* * *

><p><strong>Reviews appreciated and welcomed<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>The Aftereffects<strong>

**Chapter 3**

G edged backward into Sam's naked, warm body. "Hold me tighter." When Sam wrapped his arms around his waist, he sighed. "Feels good. That was…"

"Speechless?" Sam asked.

"The combination of great sex and being drunk and in no pain."

"Aw, does it to a man every time." He sniggered.

And there was something else happening deep within him. Something he could not identify. He drew the covers closer to his chin and snuggled beneath them. He was not sure if it was connected to the drug's aftereffects or something altogether different.

"G?"

"What?"

"Did you hear me?"

"I guess not." Damn.

"How's your arm?"

"Can't feel a thing." A complete concoction.

"We need to get you to the hospital again and get that looked at."

Great. _I need more looked at than my arm. I need my head examined. I just had sex with my partner. _Damn it. _And I liked it. _Crap.

"Let's go take a shower together."

"We need to stop and think about where this is going," G said.

"Nope."

"What?" G pulled away from him and sat up.

"I liked it," Sam said.

"Liking it is one thing." He sighed. "What about living with it? You know what Hetty's gonna say."

"Who cares what she says, man, I enjoyed myself."

"You're stoned on that drug and the booze."

"And I'm enjoying myself," Sam said. A wide grin plastered his face.

"You're shit-faced drunk."

"Yep, I imbibed in some more of that stuff."

"Not good."

Sam pulled G down on top of him. "It is good." He kissed him softly on the lips. "And you're good."

"Damn, this isn't good."

"You mean Hetty's opinion of it won't be good."

"Yeah, you know how she frowns upon relationships in the workplace."

"I'm sure she'll make an exception considering what happened was beyond our control," Sam said.

"I don't think so."

"Stop thinking with your mind and get into this." He squeezed G's buttocks.

"Sam!"

"Yes?"

"I'm taking a shower with or without you." G rolled off of his partner and sat on the side of the bed. Dizziness swept over him. He waited a few moments before standing and walking into the bathroom.

"Nice ass."

"Would you stop."

"Nope, I'm liking the view." Sam climbed off the bed and steadied himself with a hand on the bathroom's door jamb. "You need to cover that arm with a plastic bag." He leaned over and grabbed the plastic liner out of the trash can. "Come over here, sexy."

"Damn." G plodded over to his partner. "You need to lay off the booze."

"Who's says that's the booze speaking?" He tied the bag around G's left forearm. Afterward he drew his partner into a hug and kissed him deep and long. "Can't get enough of you, man. Let's go shower."

They stepped into the huge floor-to-ceiling, burgundy red tiled shower.

"I want to bathe you," Sam said.

"Come on, man, this is getting—"

He brought G hard into his body, knocking the wind out of him. "Hush sexy and enjoy the pleasure."

G slumped against Sam's chest and allowed him to wash his body. He sighed.

"Now, that's what I'm talking about," he said, washing his partner's back and down to his buttocks. "Damn, you're hot." Sam flipped him around to wash his partner's chest.

G jerked away from his partner's hold and straightened, keeping his back to him. "I'm so done with this." He stepped out of the shower and grabbed a fluffy, white bath towel.

"What?"

He kept his back to his partner and finished drying off. "I'm getting dressed."

"You've got soap on you—"

"Who gives a fuck!" G stormed out of the bathroom and slammed the door behind him.

Sam opened the bathroom door and rested his hand on the door jamb. "You mind telling me what that was all about."

"Nope." G dressed as fast as he could with his handicap. He threw his towel onto the bathroom floor and grabbed his work boots. After settling down on a couch in the lounge area, he put on his shoes.

Sam toweled off his body and watched his partner finish getting dressed. "Clamming up on me now."

"Nothing to say," he said, "need to get to the hospital and get this arm treated."

Sam shook his head. "Something is not right with you."

"You got that right." G held up his left arm.

"Besides that, man, something is amiss."

"At the Circle K?" He sighed. "I've seen that movie. Feels as if I've been on that trip into the past too."

Sam glanced at him sideways. "What?"

"Never mind, I'll see you at the hospital."

"Plan to wear a shirt I hope."

G stared down at the dark blond hairs on his naked chest. _Damn it, I'm losing it._ He grabbed his T-shirt off the floor where his partner had tossed it last night. "That would be a good idea." He ripped off the plastic trash bag. G pulled his shirt over his head and with great difficulty pushed his broken arm through the arm hole. He winced and stifled a whimper when the sleeve increased the pressure on his arm.

Sam stepped over to G's side to help him. "Let me help you with—"

"Get your damned hands off me!" He backed up several feet.

"What the hell was that about?"

"Nothing, just drop it." He yanked on his shirt sleeve, making it looser. Several stitches gave way. Afterward, he strode toward the door.

"Forget something?"

"Nope."

"Your ID, cell phone, and weapon."

Crap. He removed them from the dresser and placed them in their proper places.

"Forget anything else."

"Nope."

"You're walking away from this and not saying a word."

"Yep." He opened the door and stepped out into the hallway. "I'll see you at the hospital."

"I hope so for your sake, man," Sam said. "Or I'll call Hetty."

G stepped back into the hotel room. "What?"

"If you fail to show at the hospital, I'll call Hetty and tell her your status."

"Screw you!" He strode through the open hotel room door not looking back at his partner.

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><p><strong># # #<strong>

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><p>G plodded into the ambulatory emergency department entrance at the hospital and presented his ID requesting a secure and private exam room. He was led by a nurse into an emergency department cubicle and given a patient gown. G dressed in the gown, leaving his pants and shoes on until someone told him to remove them.<p>

After a short wait, an emergency department doctor entered the cubicle. "Hi, looks as if your arm is broken," he said. "We'll need to get a set of x-rays. Someone will arrive shortly to take x-rays here in your room."

"I want this handled discreetly," G said. "I want to know if you see any evidence of a former fracture of this arm."

"I can do that."

"Thanks." G settled back against the hospital bed and sighed. He watched the medium height, middle-aged doctor leave. When Sam entered his room, he frowned and kept his eyes averted to the window to his left.

"I'm that much of a disappointment to you."

"What?"

"You gave me a look."

"I'm dealing with a lot and I don't need your pressure."

"I'll sit outside then." Sam turned to leave.

"Wait!" G sighed again. "It's not you, man, it's me and stuff I can't explain right now. Trust me, when I'm ready, I'll talk to you."

He came over to the bedside and stood close to his partner. "Last night wasn't a disappointment."

"This has nothing to do with last night," he said. "I can't tell you anything more."

Sam pulled up a chair and sat close to his partner. "I thought maybe you wanted to—"

"Forget about what happened between us?"

"Yeah."

"Nope, I hate to admit it," G said, "I enjoyed myself." A half grin spread across his face.

Their conversation was interrupted by a radiology technician pushing an x-ray machine into the room.

"Guess I'd better let this guy take care of you," Sam said. "I'll be out in the hallway, waiting."

Several series of x-rays were taken before the technician and his machine left the cubicle. G settled back again and waited for the results. He hoped the x-rays did not show any former fracture of the left arm. Maybe the images which flashed before his eyes in the shower were a figment of his imagination.

Sam cleared his throat.

G glanced up from staring at his hospital gown to his partner. "How long have you been standing there?"

"Long enough."

Damn. "Deep in thought."

"I gather," Sam said, "don't hurt yourself." He sat back down again.

"Very funny." He crossed his arms, winced, and waited for the doctor to return.

A half an hour later, the man entered his cubicle with a two sets of x-rays. "If you'll excuse us."

Sam glanced at his partner sideways.

"I asked for this to be handled discreetly."

"I know when I'm not wanted." He feigned a pout and left the cubicle.

The doctor drew the privacy curtain around his patient's bed. He placed the x-rays on a wall hung light table. "Clearly, there is a former, spiral fracture which never healed properly."

G's jaw dropped. He quickly closed his mouth.

"And this current fracture is a compound one and requires surgery," he said. "The orthopedic surgeon told me he plans to break the poorly healed former fracture and set both fractures during surgery."

"Surgery?"

"Yes, a compound fracture requires surgical intervention."

"I didn't expect this outcome."

"I'll have the nurse bring in the papers for you to sign," the doctor said. "Do you need some time to think about this?"

"Well, no, it's an unexpected outcome," G said. "Thanks for your time." He watched the ED doctor leave with the evidence. His partner returned to the room and sat down once again.

"Well?" Sam asked.

"I need surgery."

"Told you."

"That you did and I didn't want to hear it." G sighed and crossed his arms again, wincing and stifling a whimper.

"They gonna give you pain medication for that?"

"I think they're gonna prep me for surgery."

A nurse entered the cubicle with a pen and paper and laid them on a bedside table. She brought the table over to the bedside. "Look this over for a few minutes," she said. "If you have any questions let me know. I'll be back in a few minutes to get your intravenous line started and your pre-op medication on board."

G watched her leave, grabbed the pen, and lifted the paper off the bedside table. In concise wording, the details of his surgery were typed on the page. A chill traveled up and down his spine. Surgery. A former simple fracture. The current compound fracture. Damn it. This was surreal. He stared at the words for a least a minute before placing the paper on the table and laying pen next to it.

"What's going on, G?"

"Nothing."

"Cold feet."

"Yeah, something like that." He lifted the pen off the table and signed the document and laid the pen on the paper.

The nurse reentered the cubicle with an intravenous line kit, several vials of medicine, and syringes. "Any questions?"

"None."

"Excellent." She removed the pen and the paper and attached the paper to her clipboard. "Level of pain, 0 to 10."

"At least a 9," G said.

"I'll take care of that along with getting you ready for surgery." The nurse hung a bag of fluid and prepared the intravenous line to infuse on her patient's right arm. Twenty minutes later, the intravenous line was started and all the medications given. "If you require anything, please use the call button here. Perhaps your friend could help remove your shoes and pants." She left the cubicle.

"I'd be glad to remove your pants," Sam said, grinning wide.

"I don't think she had in mind what you have in mind." He winked at him.

"You sure?" He stood at the foot of the bed and untied his partner's work boots. "Reminds me of last night. I loved stripping your clothes off you."

"Would you not remind me right now."

"Why?"

"Can't you see that I'm in the middle of a crisis." He sniggered.

Sam came around to G's left side and unbuckled his belt. "Wish I could get into your pants."

"Glad two of us won't fit," he said, his speech slurred.

"Must be relaxed."

"Yep, can barely keep my eyes open."

"Don't fight it, man, just close those sexy blue eyes and rest." He unzipped his partner's pants and rolled him to the right side. Sam inched G's jeans and clingy black boxers off in one swift movement. "There you go. All ready for surgery." He rolled him onto his back again.

"Yeah, I think you have ulterior motives."

"Wish I could—"

"But someone beat you to it."

Sam pulled down his partner's gown and pulled a sheet over him. "Yeah, they did." He leaned over and kissed G on the lips. "There's always post-op."

"Damn, you're serious."

"You're darned right." He sat back down in his chair and grasped G's right hand. "I love my men either drunk or slightly sedated. Makes them complaint and ready."

"You do," G said, "and I'll be in perfect form after surgery."

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><p>Thanks for reading.<p> 


	5. Fractures, CH 4

Thank you for the reviews and for reading my story.

* * *

><p><strong>Title: Fractures<strong>

**Rating: M**

**Slash Warning: **G/Sam

** Story Details and Full Disclaimer on Prologue Page: **_My stories are a work of __**my**__ imagination and I do not ascribe them to the official story canon__. _This is a work intended for entertainment _outside the official storyline_ owned by CBS and the producers of NCIS:LA.

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><p><strong>Reviews appreciated and welcomed<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Fractures<strong>

**Chapter 4**

G moaned and attempted to turn to his left side. It was the side he preferred to sleep on. He yelped and turned back to his right side, trying to find a comfortable position. Nothing worked. He yanked on his left arm, attempting to release it from what he believed were the sheets. Nothing happened. He yanked harder and shrieked. G's eyes flew open and he stared directly into his partner's dark brown ones.

"You okay?" Sam asked.

"My arm," he said, "hurts bad. Can't move it." He panted and winced.

Sam pressed the pump on the pain medication dispenser. "This should help."

G rolled onto his back and stared at his left arm. "What the hell?" His arm was suspended from a ceiling hook by a stretch stocking. "No wonder I can't move it," he said, slurring his speech as the painkiller took hold of the center of speech in his brain. "Surgery?"

"You're still in recovery."

"Damn."

"Yeah, you were are complete pain in the ass in the post-op cubicle," Sam said. "They requested my services to calm you down."

"Did it work?"

"Nope."

"Okay, tell me, I'm a big boy, I can handle it."

"Really?"

"Sam." G sighed.

"You were screaming again and again, 'I did not do it.'"

G covered his mouth. Tears formed in his blue eyes.

"Guess you can't handle it." He reached out and stroked G's right shoulder. "Why did you keep the x-ray results from me?"

"Damn it." He turned his face toward his strung up arm. "Can't keep anything from you."

"Not now, man, after we shared a bed, I think I deserve more than this."

"What?"

"Is it a one-night stand?" Sam asked.

"Of course not, damn it, I, don't know if I can tell you."

"Man, at least look at me."

G faced his partner. "It's not a one-night stand." Tears threatened to spill over his blond eyelashes.

"Didn't think so," he said. "Something happened at the hotel."

"Yeah, and I don't know if I can tell you just yet," he said. "I haven't come to terms with it myself."

"Come to terms?"

"Crap, Sam, stop this, I can't do this, crap." He turned his head toward his arm again. "Two fractures."

"What?"

"The x-rays showed two fractures and that's all I can tell you right now."

Sam's mouth dropped open. He slumped down in a chair and grasped G's right hand. "Sorry."

"You know what that means," G said, "and I can't talk about it further. I can't put my mind around this. Understand. Not ready." He pulled his hand away from Sam's, grabbed a corner of his hospital gown, and dabbed his wet eyes. "I need to get out of here ASAP."

"What are you talking about?"

"I can't stay here."

"You can't leave until the swelling in your arm goes down."

"The swelling?"

"Yeah."

"Damn it, now you tell me." G sighed. "I need to speak to Hetty then."

"About your broken arm."

"Yeah and more."

"Are you gonna talk about what spooked you at the hotel?"

"I'd rather not," he said, "but I know you'll bug me until I do. When you flipped me around to wash my chest, I lost it."

"Why?"

"I was getting to that part." He sighed. "I had a flashback."

"I thought so."

"Damn."

"I've worked with you long enough to know the signs of your flashbacks."

Great and now they had sex and were closer than before. Sam would know sooner than before. He loathed this new aspect to their relationship. _Damned aerosol experimental drug! I knew this was not a good idea._

"Well, you gonna tell me."

G sighed long and faced his arm again. He needed to stall for as long as possible.

"Oh damn." Sam covered his mouth with his left hand.

"What?"

"That experimental drug must have gotten the better of me."

"You're not making any sense, man."

"I forgot our burn phones and left them in the hotel room," Sam said. "I need to go retrieve them before Hetty discovers their location." He grabbed his jacket off the chair and strode toward the door. Sam parted the privacy curtain and glanced over his shoulder toward the hospital bed. After he turned back toward the door he said, "I won't be—"

Hetty stood on the other side of the privacy curtain with the two burn phones in her petite hand. "Looking for these Mr. Hanna," she said. "Your cheeks look rosy in that new color."

He backed away from her and stepped back over to the bedside. "Too late for the rescue."

Hetty strode into the center of the cubicle. "Perhaps you two gentlemen could enlighten me as to the reason your burn phones were left in a hotel room two blocks from here."

G felt the heat rise to his already hot face. He swallowed hard. "The experimental drug, Hetty."

She stepped closer to the foot of his bed and smoothed her brick red suit jacket with her left hand. Hetty tossed the two burn phones on the bed with her right hand. "The experimental drug?"

"Yes." _Damn it. This is too awkward._

"What are the side effects of this drug?"

"All inhibitions are lost for the victim exposed to the drug."

"I suppose both of you were exposed in the earthquake zone."

"Yes, Hetty."

"And I suppose the inhibition which you both lost was your sexual appetite."

G swallowed hard again. _Damn, this is worse than I thought. She knows everything._

"Yes, Hetty," Sam said, letting his partner off the hook for a moment.

"Who's idea was it to check into a hotel?" She eyed her senior agent and then glanced over to his partner.

"I'm sure you know by now—"

"Mr. Hanna I don't want coy answers, I want confessions."

"Mine," he said, "I was inebriated at the time."

"With the effects of the drug?"

"Yes, Hetty." He sighed and wished at that moment he could melt into the floor and disappear. "I got G intoxicated with alcohol to help with the pain in his broken arm and relax him." Sam figured he better confess to everything he did.

"I am well aware of the situation," she said, "and I am thankful you didn't place this on NCIS's tab."

Sam felt the heat rise into his face again.

"Over one hundred dollars worth of in-room liquor was consumed by the two of you."

"I paid for everything out of my pocket."

"Except for your indiscretions, Mr. Hanna," she said. "Those are blatant and one can't erase them from the books. Mr. Callen, when do the side effects wear off?"

He swallowed hard again. "They don't."

"What?" Sam's jaw dropped.

"They are permanent." He attempted to warn his supervisor prior to their ops. No one believed him though. He decided that real proof was needed to prove the unsub's warnings about his intentions.

"Define permanent, Mr. Callen."

He swallowed hard. "Sam and I, damn, we're now in a… relationship."

"A relationship?"

"Once the inhibition is lost, the change is permanent."

"Great, man, you didn't tell me this before our ops," Sam said.

"Sorry—"

"Is that all you have to say—"

"Gentlemen, we have bigger fish to fry."

Both G and Sam stopped bantering and bickering and faced her.

"Director Vance is scheduled to fly in later tonight."

"What?" G's jaw dropped.

"And he wants a report from you, Mr. Callen, regarding this unsub and his weaponry."

"I can't leave the hospital until the swelling in my arm subsides." G glanced at his left arm for a few seconds and then focused back on her. "And besides I have questions for you."

"Regarding?" Hetty asked.

"A fracture I endured as a child."

"You never had any broken bones as a child."

G's jaw dropped. "That's impossible and I have the proof."

"X-rays?"

"Yes, and a malunion of two bones caused by a spiral fracture."

"And you remember what, Mr. Callen?"

_Crap. Here it goes. Denial. I do not need her denial of my abuse. _"No memory yet, just a flashback." He sighed. "And I started saying something since I broke my arm. 'I did not do it.'"

Hetty's jaw dropped. "Perhaps you and I can speak privately—"

"No, I want Sam to hear what you have to say about this," he said. "I was around ten going on eleven years old, right?"

"Yes, there was a time when I 'rescued' you from a foster home," she said. "It was just before your eleventh birthday."

"And his wife left him."

"You remember more than you let on," she said.

"That's the only part I remember and of course the flashback I had."

"One flashback?"

"Yes, only one and believe me I'm not sure I want any more after having this one." G glanced at his arm where it hung from the ceiling and then down at the bed between Hetty and him. "The guy flipped me around, grabbed my left arm, and twisted it. It broke." He held back his tears. His supervisor's face reddened and tears formed in the corners of her eyes.

"I'm terribly sorry that man did that to you, Mr. Callen," she said, gripping the bed frame. "I had no idea what he'd done to you. I knew it was bad. I took you to an expert in the field of child abuse. Under his guidance, I refrained from asking you any questions about what occurred at that foster home."

"What? Why?"

"Long story, shortened version, you were in an unresponsive stupor when I picked you up," Hetty said. "You repeated that one sentence, 'I did not do it,' again and again. You spoke no other words."

"Why didn't you tell me this years ago?"

"Mr. Callen, I was instructed to refrain from all prodding and questioning as long as you kept repeating those words." She released her hands from the bed frame. "I was informed that you would someday remember what was done to you. Until that time, I was to remain tight-lipped about what I knew. I followed the psychiatrist's instructions to the letter."

"If you hadn't done so?"

"You might have lapsed into a permanent psychosis," Hetty said. "At least that was the professional point of view at the time. I acquired a second opinion to insure that was the correct direction to take. The diagnosis was confirmed."

G sighed. "This makes me feel even more leery about delving further into these memories."

"You now have a partner to help you through this." She eyed Sam and allowed her eyes to drift back to her senior agent.

_I get that message loud and clear. Hetty approves of our relationship. That is one hurdle overcome. _"Still, I don't know if I want these memories emerging while I need to be levelheaded about the ops."

"In that case, two heads are better than one."

Sam glanced sideways at G and gave him a half smile.

"If I can help you more with affirming your memories at the place where it occurred, please let me know."

"I'd like to see the house if that's possible."

"I know the location," she said. "When you are ready, I'd be glad to show you. You need your rest, Mr. Callen. When Director Vance's plane arrives later I'll inform him of your situation. Perhaps a scheduled meeting in the OPS Center in few days is the best I can offer him."

"I'll write a report for him."

"Not necessary," she said. "Mr. Hanna, please take care of him." Hetty turned and left the hospital room.

Sam rushed over to the door and locked it. He came back to the bedside. "Move over."

"What?"

"I'm gonna take care of you."

"Why don't I like the sound of this?" The left corner of his mouth turned upward.

"You'll love what I have in mind," Sam said, climbing onto the bed and cuddling up to his partner's side. "You heard her, I need to take care of you." G rolled slightly to his left side. Sam wrapped an arm around his partner's waist.

"I can't believe she just approved of our relationship." G sighed.

"She not only approved of it, she encouraged it."

G sighed again and pushed back into Sam's warm, hard body. He needed his partner's strength in more ways than one. If only everything else could be this simple. If only the memories of what that guy did to him could be as disarming as Sam. If only.

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><p>Thanks for reading my story and for the reviews.<p> 


	6. Cast, CH 5

**Title: Fractures**

**Rating: M**

**Slash Warning: **G/Sam

** Story Details and Full Disclaimer on Prologue Page: **_My stories are a work of __**my**__ imagination and I do not ascribe them to the official story canon__. _This is a work intended for entertainment _outside the official storyline_ owned by CBS and the producers of NCIS:LA.

* * *

><p><strong>Reviews appreciated and welcomed<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Cast<strong>

**Chapter 5**

G tossed and turned in a fitful sleep as one nightmare after another plagued his once peace filled rest. His broken left arm had been casted earlier in the day. The act had triggered him. Yet it didn't make sense. No cast had ever graced his arm or anywhere else on his body. After Sam pushed his wheelchair back into his hospital room, flashbacks bombarded his mind. He yearned to go home and hide in his closet away from his partner and his team. That wasn't gonna happen now that Director Vance had arrived two days ago. G's only solace was his private room in a corner of the hospital away from all the bustle and noise of the nurses' station. He opened his eyes again and scanned his room. Paranoia ran deep, deeper than usual. Certain no one was there, he pulled the covers up past his chin and snuggled under them. It was one of too many times he swore he heard that man's voice. Swore that man had stood at the foot of his hospital bed. Swore that man had leaned over the bed and whispered something in his ear. He awakened each time with the same simple sentence on his parched lips. 'I did not do it.'

Sam strode into the private hospital room and sat on a chair next to his partner's bed.

G startled hard and turned to eye him.

"What's going on, man?"

"Same old crap, different hour."

"You'll be happy to know you're getting released right now."

"And?"

"Where do you want to stay?"

He wanted to tell him the truth. "With you, of course." A flagrant fabrication.

"Good, I arranged everything for your homecoming."

Damn. He needed to hide. He needed to run. He needed space away from human contact and connection.

"I set you up in the guest room."

G smiled. Better than he thought. Good.

"I know how I feel after being in the hospital," Sam said. "I need to be left to my own devices for a while." He leaned over the bed rail and grasped G's hand. "If you need me I'm right down the hallway. Okay?"

"Thanks, man, you understand me so well."

"The nurses told me you've been having nightmares."

G sighed. "Damn."

"Don't worry, no pressure to share."

"Good," he said, "I'm not ready to talk about this stuff right now. What about the director?"

"Hetty doesn't want you in the OPS Center until tomorrow after lunch."

"She's trying to accommodate my needs."

"You broke your arm, had major surgery, and now you're remembering what some jerk did to you."

"As always my platter is full."

"Plate."

"Mine's a platter, Sam, and it's full and the stuff is sliding off its edges."

"Descriptive and true."

"I'm so done with this hospital scene."

"Good, I'll get your clothes ready," Sam said. He opened the closet door and brought out a small suitcase and placed it on the bed.

"Since when did you do this?"

"You know me by now, everything squared away and orderly," he said. "No pressure for you to follow suit." He pulled out jeans, a long sleeve bright blue T-shirt, boxers, and shoes and socks. "Need help?" He pushed the side rail down on the hospital bed.

"Wish I didn't, but I do." G rolled over onto his right side and pushed himself into an upright position with his right arm. Sam helped his partner dangle his feet on the edge of the bed. G tried to untie his hospital gown. He quickly got frustrated with the tie behind his neck. "Damn this."

"Let me do it." Sam reached around to untie it.

"No!" He pushed his partner's arm out of the way. "I should be able to do this."

"You've got one good arm, let me help you." He came around behind him and climbed onto the bed.

G shrieked and jerked away from him.

"Whoa, easy, man," Sam said, drawing his partner back against his body. "What's this about?"

Crap. "Sorry, damn it, hair-trigger reactions."

"I'll say," he said, untying the hospital gown. "Is that from the nightmares?"

He nodded.

"Not ready to talk and that's okay." He laid the gown in his partner's lap. Sam grabbed the T-shirt. "Ready for the shirt?"

"Yeah."

He fitted it over G's head. "Arms overhead." Sam finished dressing his partner in the T-shirt.

"Where did you find one with loose sleeves?"

"Simple, it's one of mine."

"That's why I'm swimming in it." G smirked.

Sam kissed the back of his partner's neck. "Makes it easier to have my way with you."

"Ulterior motives."

He climbed off the bed and stood in front of his partner. "If you want to do the rest yourself—"

"No," he said, "I'm enjoying it."

Sam took the boxers, sat in the chair, and dressed his partner in them. Next he dressed him in the jeans. "Stand." He pulled them up together and looped a belt into the jeans. Sam zipped and buckled his partner's pants. "Sit." Last, he placed socks and work boots on G's feet. "Ready?"

"Do I have to ride in the wheelchair?"

"What do you think?"

"I think the nurses would hassle me if I didn't."

"Yep," Sam said. "They already instructed me about your care at home as well."

"Figures."

He pushed the wheelchair closer to the bed. "Need help?" G shook his head and sat in the wheelchair. Sam set the suitcase on his partner's lap.

"What about the rest of my stuff?"

"I already took it home yesterday."

"Efficient."

"Navy SEAL."

"Yep, thought so, can't get that training out of you."

"And you won't, man, let's go." He pushed the wheelchair out into the lobby and up to the nurses' station. "Ready to sign those discharge orders." Sam handed the paper and pen to G.

"Anything I need to know?"

"Keep your cast clean and dry," the head nurse said.

"That shouldn't be too hard." G sighed. A flagrant fabrication again. In his line of work, dirty and wet were two _real_ possibilities rather than clean and dry. He signed the discharge orders and handed it back to his partner.

Sam took one copy, gave it to his partner, and pushed the wheelchair toward the parking garage. "Shouldn't be too hard?"

"Yeah, a bold-faced lie, man," he said. "After one day back on the job, my cast will be covered with dirt."

"I hope not."

"Why?"

"I hope it's covered with numerous signatures from everyone who wants to sign your cast."

"How sweet."

"I'm serious, man, and I'm the first one to sign it."

"I hope you don't put anything sexually explicit on it."

"Aw, you're ruining my fun already." Sam pushed G up to the Challenger and locked the wheelchair in place. "Stay here while I put things away."

"I can do it—"

"Remember, you don't want a nurse seeing you do anything which will slap you back into the hospital."

G sighed and waited for Sam to get everything put away. "Whatever happened with that rental Challenger we totaled?"

"Hetty took it out of my hide."

"Did she really?"

"Nope, the insurance covered it," Sam said, coming back to the passenger side door. He grinned wide and opened the door. "At your service."

"Imagine if your baby hadn't been in the shop that day, getting its front windshield replaced."

"I'd be pissed."

"You're good at that," G said.

Sam helped his partner to stand, drew him into his arms, and kissed him softly on the lips.

"And your good at kissing too."

"Lucky for you." He settled him into the passenger seat and buckled his partner's seatbelt.

"I probably could've done that."

"Nope, you got one fully functional arm," Sam said, "and you just got released from the hospital."

"Sucks." G sighed.

"That's something you excel at, sucking."

"I ought to slug—"

Sam kissed him harder this time. "That's a compliment, man, take it in." He nibbled down the side of his neck and suckled on the skin near his ear lobe.

"I'll bet no one else receives this kind of specialized attention when they go home from the hospital," G said, relaxing against the seat.

Sam closed the door and climbed into the driver's side. "Nope." He buckled his seatbelt. "Any requests for dinner tonight?"

"Donuts."

"Besides donuts."

"You."

"I like where this conversation is going," Sam said, leaning over and cupping G's face in his two sinewy, huge hands. "I picked up some lasagna this afternoon. It's ready to pop in the oven."

"Sounds perfect and for dessert, you sound perfect."

Sam kissed him again. "Yep, you're gonna be perfect for dessert too."

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><p><strong># # #<strong>

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><p>G pushed the dinner plate to the center of Sam's blond-stained, solid oak dining table. "Excellent." He sighed and leaned against the chair.<p>

"Me or the dinner."

"Both." A wide grin spread across his face. "Glad we had dessert before dinner."

Sam stood and came around to his lover's side. He leaned over and planted a soft kiss on his mouth. G wrapped his arms around Sam's neck and kissed him hard on the lips. "Let's take this back into the bedroom."

"Let's do it here."

"On the dining room table?"

"Sounds—"

Sam lifted his lover onto the dining room table. "Damn, you're one hot man." G surrounded his lover with his legs, drawing him closer to him. "Let me get this bathrobe off first."

"No, hurry."

"Hurry?"

"Yeah, I need you now." _Before I change my mind. That is gonna happen faster than I want it to._

Sam pushed his lover backward onto the table. He spread open his bathrobe.

G released his legs and scooted backward across the table.

"Okay, this is gonna be a difficult position."

He leaped off the table and ran into the guest bedroom, slamming the door behind him. G slumped to floor, wrapping his arms around his chest and shuddering.

"What just happened, man?" Sam asked, rapping on the guest bedroom door. "You okay?"

"Leave me alone."

"I'll be back after I get the dishes into the dishwasher."

G crawled on his hands and knees over to the bed. He climbed onto it and pulled the covers around him.

A few minutes later, Sam entered the bedroom, stripped off his bathrobe, and settled under the covers with his lover. "You okay?"

"Just hold me and don't ask me any questions."

"I can do that." He drew him into this arms and stroked his lover's back.

G shuddered hard and squeezed his eyes shut. "I want to go to the house Hetty told me about."

"Not like this, man," Sam said, "you need to hold off."

"Can't," he said, "beginning to remember stuff and I need to see inside that house."

"I'm going with you."

"Of course." G agreed to anything which placated his partner. Sam loathed was being humored by his partner. Tough. G needed to see inside that house.

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><p>Thanks for reading.<p> 


	7. Basement, CH 6

Thank you for your reviews.

Major G whumping ahead...

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><p><strong>Title: Fractures<strong>

**Rating: M**

**Slash Warning: **G/Sam

** Story Details and Full Disclaimer on Prologue Page: **_My stories are a work of __**my**__ imagination and I do not ascribe them to the official story canon__. _This is a work intended for entertainment _outside the official storyline_ owned by CBS and the producers of NCIS:LA.

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><p><strong>Reviews appreciated and welcomed<strong>

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><p><strong>Basement<strong>

**Chapter 6**

In the early morning hours of a Thursday morning, G stood outside that house which Hetty had told him about. Dawn had broken the sky, filling it with bright red streaks. Sailors warn. G wondered why he thought of that line every time the morning sky warned of a coming storm.

He stared at the security lock box on the front door. One more obstacle. He removed the lock pick set from his light brown, corduroy jacket pocket. G wondered how long the house had been on the market. The security lock was rusted onto the door knob. All he needed was the key inside the box which covered the doorknob. If only his left arm was not in a cast, this would be a far easier job. The cast made his maneuvers awkward. It took him twice as long to gain access to the key inside the box. By the time he reached the key, G panted and sweated from the minor exertion. _I should not feel like this from opening a locked box. What the hell is wrong with me._

G pushed the key into the specialized lock and turned it. The door creaked open. One last time, he glanced around the yard of the secluded house before entering the home. G placed his lock pick set in his jacket. He pulled out his gun and a flashlight and scanned the first large area, the living room. It was as if time had stood still in this home. The furniture which filled the room was from the late 1960s and early 1970s. No style, at least not G's kind of style. Drab colors of olive and dark greens. G reminded himself to purchase furniture with style and colors which reflected his personality. If he ever decided to buy living room furniture besides his chair and table.

He edged around a corner into a long hallway. To his left he found the basement door exactly where he remembered it would be. He hesitated for several minutes, staring at the off white, door with peeling paint. Flashes of memories flooded his mind. G backed away from the door and flattened his body against the opposite wall. He slid down the wall and landed on his butt. _Damn these memories. No way I can stuff them back inside now. They are here to stay._

After several minutes of trying to regain his composure and realizing that was impossible, G climbed to his feet and stood before the basement door. He turned the doorknob and pulled the door toward him. G stared into the basement for what seemed as if it were an hour yet it was only minutes. Finally, he trudged down the steps and stopped halfway.

Shit.

G slumped down onto the step and shuddered. No wonder the house was still on the market after all these years. No one in their right mind would buy something like this.

The basement floor was as he had remembered it in his nightmares. Those nightmares had haunted him since he broke his arm four days ago on a Monday. His foster father failed to remove the bright red and dark red stains from the cement floor.

Bile rose to the back of his throat. G had to get out of the basement before he vomited up what little he had eaten. He stood and froze in place. The execrable memories from years ago flooded his mind again. G reached out to grab the nearest handrail to steady himself.

He lost his balance.

G tumbled down the basement stairs onto the bone-chilling, hard, bloodstained cement floor.

He raised his head from the bloodstained cement floor and scanned the area around him for his SIG-Sauer P229 and flashlight. Both were five feet away from his left side. He inched toward them and cried out when he moved his left arm. G lifted his left arm and glanced at the cast. Damn it. One head was gonna roll and it would be his. The cast was split down its length.

_I do not need this on top of everything else. _At least his car was in one piece without scratches. He managed to keep it on the road in spite of the numerous flashbacks he had on the way to the house. Not to mention what his partner and Hetty would say about his investigating this on his own. Damn.

G resigned himself to calling his partner on his cell phone. He rolled over onto his back , stifling a scream. After removing the cell phone from his jacket pocket, he opened it, pressed speakerphone, and autodialed his partner. G imagined the man's shock when he heard his partner on the cell phone. Only two hours ago, he had left his lover sleeping on the guest room's king-sized bed.

"What the hell?" Sam asked.

G heard his partner wrestling with the covers. Damn it.

"Where are you?"

Shit.

"Damn it, talk to me, man, before I blow my top."

"Sounds as if you have." G sighed. "I've got problems."

"Don't we all."

"Worse than before."

"Where the hell are you?" Sam asked again, his voice increased by at least ten decibels.

"I, damn, I went off on my own—"

"Don't tell me, damn it, you went to that house on your own," he said. "Whatever you got yourself into you're gonna have to get yourself out of. Handle it." He started to hang up.

"Wait!"

"You promised me we'd go together."

G stifled another scream as excruciating pain shot through his left arm from the elbow to the wrist. "Shit."

"You're injured?"

He sighed.

"Well?"

"Yeah, damn it."

"What now?" Sam asked. "Did you roll the car? Get in an accident? Get shot by—"

"Stop, man, just stop, it's my arm, my fucking broken arm."

"Great," he said. "Stay where you are and I'll get Eric to track you."

"Impossible," G said, "I removed the GPS tacking device from the car and my cell phone and left everything else at your house."

"What the hell." He sighed. "Tell me where you are and keep your cell phone connected to me."

After telling his partner where he was, G settled the cell phone next to him and rolled back onto his stomach. He stifled another scream. G closed his eyes and tried to block out the shooting pains in his left arm. He hoped his arm did not need surgery again. G loathed the idea of spending another couple of days in the hospital.

Blood dripped onto the cement floor. Great. Damn this, not another injury. He patted his face, searching for the source of the bright red, gooey and sticky substance. G found a deep cut above his left eyebrow. He surmised his fall had caught his left side on the last basement step. Now he needed to test for other injuries. He took in a deep breath and winced. Damn. His ribs. G rolled onto his back again, gritting his teeth to keep from screaming. He slid his right hand along the left side of his rib cage, hunting for a cracked or fractured rib. When he reached the last two ribs he grimaced and held back another scream. Damn it, at least two cracked or broken ribs. He rolled back onto his stomach. After a few minutes, the pooled blood above his eyebrow spilled onto the floor, adding to the bloodstained cement. His partner was gonna be pissed now. G deserved every angry word he heard from him. He sighed and rested his chin on his right forearm. After several attempts to find a comfortable position for his newly injured left arm, he resigned himself to lay it down by his side where it vacillated between throbbing and shooting pains.

**# # #**

G had to be dreaming. A hand lightly touched his face, stroking his day old beard. He moaned and pressed his face into the hand. His eyes fluttered open. "Sam." He stared up into his partner's eyes.

"Yeah, you okay?"

"I've been better."

"Called the paramedics." Sam watched G's body go through several shudders resembling small earthquakes. He crouched down next to him.

"Damn, why?"

"I assessed your injuries and thought it was best." Sam removed his jacket and covered his partner's back. "You cold?"

"Yeah."

"Shock."

"Damn it." G lowered his chin to his right forearm. In the distance, he heard the blare of a siren. "You gonna ride with me?"

"Nope," Sam said, "I'll send someone for your car or have it towed."

His sapphire blue eyes welled up with tears. "I need you with me." He glanced upward at his partner.

"What's going on, man?"

"Stuff I'm not ready to talk about."

Sam pulled out his cell phone, straightened, and crossed to the other side of the basement. After a short conversation, he returned to G's side and crouched down next to him. "Okay, I'm riding with you." He stroked his partner's cheek and straightened again. "Need to meet them upstairs."

G reached out and grabbed Sam's ankle before he could leave. "I need you, damn it."

"You've got me, man," he said.

"I can't tell you, I need you."

"What are you trying to tell me?"

"Don't, I hate this, don't leave me."

"Meeting the paramedics upstairs," Sam said, "be right back."

G released his hand and wiped the tears from his eyes with the back of his hand. He watched his partner take the stairs two at a time and climb to the first floor. Hearing foreign voices upstairs, brought G back into another flashback. He cringed and squeezed his eyes shut. As the voices drew closer, the miniature earthquake-like trembling in his body increased to full scale shudders. Waves of pain washed over his whole body.

When Sam came back down the stairs, G relaxed until he saw the paramedics with a gurney in tow. He shuddered hard. What was coming next would hurt like hell.

Sam stepped aside and allowed the paramedics to work.

"Don't turn me over."

"Come on G, they have to turn you over."

"Shit." He sighed, relinquishing his control over the situation.

The paramedics, two young burly men both medium height in stature, turned G over on his back.

G shrieked, tears wetting his eyes again.

"As soon as we can we'll get a painkiller on board," the taller one said. They lifted him onto the gurney.

This time G stifled a scream by panting which in turn accentuated the pain in his ribs. He reached over to his side to press against his ribs.

"Sore ribs?" One of them asked.

"Yeah," G said.

"We'll try to go easy on strapping you into the gurney."

"You're not strapping me in, period!"

Sam came over to G's side. "Easy man, allow them to work."

"Nobody's gonna strap me onto anything." G gritted his teeth.

"Easy, G." He stroked his partner's shoulder. "What's with you all of the—"

"No, damn it!"

"If you want to stay on the gurney I suggest you allow them to strap you down."

G gritted his teeth as the paramedics strapped him onto the gurney, avoiding his fractured rib cage and forearm. This was the last thing he needed right now. The claustrophobic feelings which had caused his tumble down the basement stairs started to rise in his gut and mind again. He shuddered hard and tried to force them back down where they came from.

Once inside the ambulance, the apprehension which had dissipated now started to rise again. The walls of the ambulance started to close in on him. He yanked at the straps across his shoulders and waist and raised his head, scanning the van for what he thought was there. Nothing. Bile rose to the back of his throat. The sheer terror he had felt in the basement was back again. "Damn it, take it off of me."

"Easy, man, put your head back down." One of paramedics gently pressed his head back down on the gurney.

"No!" He raised his head again, eyes widened, darting back and forth.

Sam eyed the two paramedics who left the ambulance as he stepped into it. "Come on, G, you need to relax."

"No, damn it, I need you to drive me, can't do this."

"That's not a good idea."

"I don't care, man, I can't do this, drive me."

Sam sighed and stepped out of the ambulance. After a short chat with the two paramedics, Sam helped G into the passenger side of his car. "If you die on me—so help me."

"I won't, just get me there."

Sam climbed into the driver's seat and reached over to buckle his partner's seatbelt. G shoved his hand away.

"No, I'll do it."

"Like hell you will." He finished buckling his partner's seatbelt. "Don't fight me or I'll, damn, I'll make love to you."

"What?" G glanced at him sideways.

"I want to be angry with you."

"But you can't."

"Yeah, damn." He cupped G's face in both hands and planted a sloppy kiss on his mouth. "I should be livid."

"But you're not."

"Yeah, what the hell is with that dispersible drug." Sam sighed again, shut the passenger door, climbed into the driver's side, and buckled his own seatbelt. He started the engine and drove toward the hospital. "One condition of this is you sharing without further delay."

"About what?"

"Start with why you refused to go to the hospital in the ambulance."

G stared out the side window, avoiding his partner's eyes. "Couldn't handle the closed in space."

"What?"

"The feeling is what caused me to lose my balance on the basement stairs."

"The feeling?"

G faced his partner. "I reached out for the handrail with my left hand and lost my balance."

"I can see why you did."

"What?"

"There's no handrails on the basement steps."

"Bull shit!"

"It's no bull shit, man, no handrails."

G faced the side window again. "Then I'm losing it." Tears welled up in his sapphire blue eyes. He brushed them away with the back of his right hand. _I know there are handrails. I remember handrails._ "Can we go back and check?"

"What?"

G glanced over at his partner. "I'll prove you wrong."

"Fat chance."

"Fat chance I'll prove you wrong?"

"No, fat chance you're going there," Sam said. "Remember where we're headed."

"After this then."

"Maybe, depends on what the doctor says."

"Great."

"And what Hetty says."

"Damn, you called her?"

"Nope."

"Good." He slumped against the door frame, pressing his right hand over his sore ribs. The same feeling which threatened to overtake his senses and throw him into a full out panic attack, started to surface again. "Can you drive faster?"

"Not without a ticket," Sam said. "Pain worse?"

"Nope."

"Then what."

"Damn, same feeling again," G said. "Quick, lock the doors and windows."

"What?"

"Just do it and don't ask me any more questions." _Fuck this. I am gonna lose it big time._ He grabbed the door handle and tried to open the door. Locked. Damn it. It was good and bad.

"What the hell are you trying to—"

"I need to get out of here!" He leaned forward and pressed the button for the window to open. Nothing happened. Good and bad. "Faster, damn it, hurry!" He squeezed his eyes shut, attempting to force the heinous images from his mind. As suddenly as the feeling had emerged it disappeared. G slumped with relief against the Challenger's door frame.

"You mind explaining yourself."

"I do."

"What?"

"Can't talk about this."

"Not an option."

"Same feeling, everything closing in on me, need to break free."

"Same feeling you had in the basement."

"Yeah." He rubbed his eyes with the thumb and index finger of his right hand. When Sam pulled up into the emergency department drop-off parking spot, G shuddered.

"Let me get you a wheelchair."

"Hell no."

"Hell yeah."

Damn. He watched his partner grab a wheelchair and push it over to his passenger door. G started to unbuckle his seatbelt.

Sam opened the door and stopped him. "Let me help you," he said, "you're injured." He leaned over his partner and kissed him. "Sorry you going through this inner turmoil." Sam cupped G's face in both hands. "Damn, I can't even be angry with you for not sharing enough intel."

"I rather like it." He winked at him.

Sam kissed him again and released the seatbelt. He guided his partner to the wheelchair and shut the door.

"Promise me you won't tell Hetty about this."

"I'll think about it."

"Think?"

"Yeah."

"Don't think too hard."

Sam ruffled G's hair, leaned over and kissed his neck. "You know the condition for this agreement," he whispered into his partner's left ear.

"I accept."

"Good." He pushed the wheelchair through the automatic sliding doors into the reception area for ambulatory emergency patients. The place was jammed full of people. Sam pushed his partner up to the check-in desk. "Federal agents, need a private and secure treatment room."

The receptionist stood and leaned over the desk. "I see, right this way."

Sam followed the young man, in his early 20s, toward a cubicle. He watched his partner's disgruntled glance around the cubicle. The same one as before when G checked into the emergency department on his own. "Let's get you settled on the gurney."

"No gown. No intravenous line. Not staying."

"No fussing."

"What?"

"You're behind on sharing."

Damn. G allowed Sam to help him onto the gurney. It was actually more difficult than he imagined it would be. His injured ribs on the same side as his broken arm with a split cast meant he could not maneuver himself onto the gurney. Every time he turned to his left to scoot up and over, he grimaced and gritted his teeth to prevent himself from crying out. G decided that showing his partner how he really felt gave him more ammunition. That was something he did not want his partner to have right now.

"You can keep your jeans on for now," Sam said helping his partner with the long sleeved, midnight blue t-shirt.

"I guess I can be grateful for something." G pouted.

"Why don't you use those lips for talking to me rather than making faces?"

"After we leave here."

"Deal," Sam said. "Those ribs must hurt."

"Why?"

"Bruises along the left side."

"The whole thing?"

"Nope, high and low."

Damn.

Sam helped his partner into the hospital gown.

G sighed. "I hate what these things symbolize." He pulled the bright blue, fabric over his jeans.

"Me too, but they are necessary."

"You never told me."

"You never asked," Sam said.

"I need a sheet or blanket."

A nurse overheard their conversation and brought a heated blanket out of the warmer. Sam and her draped the warmed blanket over G's body.

"You cold?" he asked his partner.

"Yeah, hate to admit it." G drew the blanket up to his chin.

"Let's get some vitals, Mr. Doe."

Here it was again. Countless times he was a Mr. John Doe to conceal his true identity.

The nurse finished her routine vitals in a short time and left the cubicle.

"She could at least tell me if anything was off."

"Fat chance, man, she not gonna tell you."

"I could always hope."

A medium height man, who wore a white coat over a shirt and tie and slacks, sauntered into the cubicle. "It appears I saw you for the broken arm once."

"Yes."

"X-rays on that again."

"I think I cracked or busted some ribs on my left side."

"We'll need x-rays there as well," the doctor said, eyeing his patient's forehead. "The head there needs a set of x-rays. Pain level?"

"Eight on most everything."

"Moving a problem?"

"I grin and bear it."

"Not here, Mr. Doe, you'll need an intravenous line."

"No."

The doctor glanced from his patient to Mr. Doe II.

"He'll agree to one," Sam said, shooting G a look.

"We'll get the head x-rays first," he said. "After clearance on that, we'll get you medicated for pain."

"Thanks." Sam glared at his partner's lack of response to the doctor. He watched the man leave the cubicle. "You're sliding on thin, slippery, melted chocolate."

"What?"

He leaned in closer to him. "You heard me, man," Sam said. "And I want you." He slipped his hand down to his partner's crotch and caressed his member.

"What the hell are you doing?"

"Payback."

"Why?"

"You left me high and dry this morning."

"I'll pay you back when we get back to your house."

"Promise."

"I promise."

"Guess you're off the hook for now," he said, allowing his hand to travel northward under G's hospital gown. He rubbed his partner's right nipple to a hard nub.

"Sam!" He grasped his partner's hand with free hand. "I said later."

A radiology technician entered the room and stopped G and Sam from escalating either side of their behaviors.

"I guess this is when I take my exit." Sam slipped his hand out from under his partner's hospital gown and left the room.

The technician took several views of his patient's head before exiting the cubicle.

G sighed when Sam entered again. "I hope this isn't round two."

"Nope." He pulled up a chair and sat close to his partner. "I do have one question. How did you find out where that house was?"

G swallowed hard. Damn. _I knew this would happen. After all, what did I expect from my partner, another undercover agent. Miracles. Fat chance. _"Can we talk about this later?"

"Nope." Sam sighed.

"A trip to NCIS Headquarters."

"And?"

"You're not letting me off the hook."

"Nope, and do I ever, nope."

Damn. "All right, I perused Hetty's notebook computer for the information."

Sam's jaw dropped open.

"Sorry."

"You're not," he said, "and she's probably wondering what's happening."

"Why would she do that?"

"I shut off my cell phone at that house."

"She won't discover I perused her notebook computer."

"It's Hetty, G, damn it, of course she'll know."

G sighed.

The doctor reentered the cubicle and came over to the bedside. "Mr. Doe, looks as if you dodged a bullet on the head wound," he said. "You will need stitches though. Let's get the painkillers on board and then finish your x-rays."

"Stitches?"

The doctor leaned over the bedside, gloved his hands, and re-examined the head wound. "Yes, too wide a gash and not joined enough to heal on its own." He straightened, removed his blue, nitrile gloves and tossed them into the trash. "Painkillers and x-rays." He left again.

Damn. Stitches meant needles. He hated needles. Even the word itself made him cringe. Maybe they could knock him out completely before stitching up his head. Maybe. Then he remembered that would require a needle. Damn.

The nurse reentered the cubicle with an intravenous line kit on a stainless steel, rolling cart.

G cringed and steeled himself for the next procedure. The strange feeling which had haunted him several times since being in that house made itself known again. It was a slow, creeping feeling, coming up from the pit of his gut and traveling upward to the back of his throat. He wanted to scream and flee, all at once. Wide open spaces where he could breathe in fresh air appealed to him more than this enclosed space of the exam cubicle. The stench of fresh and dried blood. An image filtered into his mind of a body covered in a gooey and flaking red substance. G jerked away from the nurse's warm fingers palpating the veins on his right forearm arm. "No!"

"Easy, man, you and I agreed you needed this," Sam said, eyeing his partner's odd look. The same fight-flight, terror stricken look G had in the ambulance and later in his Challenger. He stroked his partner's shoulder. "Maybe you need to add something for anxiety with that painkiller."

"Hell no, no more drugs, I don't need to be drugged out of my fucking mind." He covered his mouth with the warm blanket. "Sorry. Crap."

"Anti-anxiety medicine will work for panic attacks," the nurse said.

"Panic attacks?" G asked. "That's what this is."

"Without a proper diagnosis from a—"

"Not happening so don't even mention it."

"Let me talk to your doctor." The nurse left and returned a few minutes later with another syringe in her hand. She continued to set up the intravenous infusion line. "Ready to stick you."

G pleaded with his eyes for Sam to help him. His partner got the message. Sam rested his hand on G's shoulder close to his neck, massaging him there.

"Listen to my voice and look at me, man," he said. "Everything is gonna be okay."

"Ready? Sharp poke." She inserted the needle on the first try.

G flinched and held his arm steady.

Afterward, she injected the anti-anxiety medicine and then hooked up the infusion fluid. Next the painkiller was on board. "In about ten minutes, you shouldn't feel a thing."

"What's in there?"

"A strong tranquilizer and painkiller."

"No specifics?"

"Need to know basis and you need to relax." She placed all the remaining packaging along with the syringes back on the stainless steel cart and left the room.

"She was beginning to remind me of Hetty," G said, with slurred speech.

"Aw, the first sign of being drugged, altered speech."

"It's that noticeable, damn." He closed his eyes and released his right hand's white knuckle hold on his hospital gown.

Sam released his hand and eased himself back down on the chair at the bedside. "How's the fight-flight feeling?"

G opened his eyes. "How did you know?"

"Been there."

"Gone with that first medicine she injected."

"See."

"I know, I need it, but I hate drugs." Just as he started to relax further, the radiology technician arrived again. Damn.

"You need to tell me if anything hurts when I move you around."

"How much moving around?"

"I'll need to lift your side and move your arm."

"I think I can handle that." Instead, G stifled screams as the technician lifted his side to position him for the x-rays. He expected the painkiller and anti-anxiety medicines to completely relieve any symptoms from his wounds. Not so. After the technician left, G scrunched down under the blanket, pulling it past his chin.

"You okay."

"Nope." He panted to block the combination of nausea and shooting pains in his arm and side.

Sam reached over and pressed the medicine pump, causing more anti-anxiety and painkiller medicines to flow into his partner's vein. Within minutes he saw him relax and stop panting.

"Better. Thanks." But he failed to smile. He feared what might come next. A new memory. Surgery. Stitches. Hospitalization. _I do not need any of this right now. _Damn this.

His doctor reentered the cubicle. "Good news, no new fractures in your left forearm."

G released the breath he was holding.

"However, I think we need to start you on intravenous antibiotics."

"I'm not staying, damn this." If he could cross his arms right now, he would.

"You're not being hospitalized for the infusions," the doctor said. "Two infusions four hours apart and then you'll be sent home with strong antibiotics."

"I'll receive the infusions in here?"

"Either here or in our infusion center."

"Good." He sighed.

"First we need to cast that arm again." He laid the iPad in his hands on the bedside table and strode over to his patient's left side. "You have two fractured ribs up here." The doctor touched the area just below his patient's collar bone. "Any higher and you'd have some serious problems with a fractured collar bone. And two more cracked ribs down here." He touched the area on the front just above the spleen. "This time you'll need to wear a sling while active during the day time."

"For how long?"

"Six weeks."

"No way."

"Don't start, man, just do as the doctor says."

"But six weeks?"

"Only while active during the day time," the doctor said again.

"I guess this is punishment for going out on my own." G's low lip rolled downward.

"And of course the stitches."

"Damn, this is too much."

"Not to mention, the extra medications I need to prescribe."

"Extra, which ones?"

"We'll discuss this after we've bandaged your fractured ribs and casted your arm." The doctor left.

G wanted to leave. Now he really needed to exit this hospital before more problems arose for which he could not, no, would not tolerate.

* * *

><p><strong># # #<strong>

* * *

><p>Sam pushed G's wheelchair toward the Challenger.<p>

At least the sun was shining. He had expected increasing clouds with the sailor's warning sunrise. That's all G could think about at this point. After being drugged out of his gourd and not being able to think straight, Sam was taking him home by way of that house. He was now on three drugs. An powerful antibiotic. A powerful painkiller. And a drowsy inducing anti-anxiety medicine. His basic demeanor at this point was a stupor. This was not how he wanted to be while investigating that house again. The doctor promised some of those effects would wear off. It was the extra medicine given prior to suturing the head wound. He resigned himself to whatever state his mind would be in when he arrived at that house.

"G?"

"Damn, I didn't hear you again."

"Those drugs." He opened the passenger door and helped his partner into the car.

He decided not to waste the time correcting his partner's surmise. Not only the drugs, his mind and the approaching memories. Damn. And that house. Hell. He allowed Sam to take over and help him into the car. No use in fighting this. His new injuries necessitated his partner's help. The sling on his left arm and his drugged state prevented him from doing much of anything.

Sam buckled G's seatbelt and gave him a light peck on the lips. "You okay."

"Nope."

"Anything I can do, just ask."

"Take away my stupidity."

"You mean your curiosity."

"Is it curiosity or stupidity if in the process you bust your body to pieces?"

"I'd call it curiosity still."

"Thanks for that." G eased himself back in the seat. "Can you recline my seat?"

"No problem, say when." Sam released the seat.

"Good."

"Yeah, you look delicious."

"Sam, would you cool it for now, too much on my mind."

"Deal until we get back to my place." He shut the passenger door, returned the wheelchair, and climbed into the driver's side.

"About your place."

"Nope."

"Damn, you know what I'm gonna say."

"Yep, you're staying with me or else I inform Hetty about your little mishap."

"My little mishap, damn."

Sam started the Challenger and pulled out of the parking lot, heading toward the house. "Besides, remember what I'm giving you."

"Yeah, one hour of free time at that house."

"Yep."

"Lucky me, hope I don't have any more accidents."

"Mishaps."

"It wasn't little."

"Let's not worry about the possibility of more," he said. "You're sounding awfully pessimistic."

"Thanks for sharing." G stared out the side window. If only he could sink through the floorboards of the Challenger, things would be much better for both of them.

Sam pulled onto the street where that home stood at the end of a cul-de-sac.

From this vantage point, G immediately started to have flashbacks. He was back in his foster Dad's vehicle. The type of vehicle was quite evident in the images which flashed before his eyes. He pushed the memory of that hideous transportation from his mind. Awful memories were associated with that vehicle. It was as if it were a monster looming closer to him—the kind a kid fears is living under his bed—bringing with it those disgusting memories. He cringed and huddled in the corner of the seat. G desperately wanted to bring his knees up to his chest and rock his upper body. He needed to quell the memories of the images floating into his vision. The excruciating pain which came with that action stopped him from following through. The closer Sam drove toward that house, the stronger the images became. "Stop! Damn it, just stop the damned car!"

Sam braked the Challenger, causing the tires to come to a screeching halt. G leaped out of the car and ran back the way they had come. Sam jumped out of the car and chased after him, knowing he could not tackle his partner with the injuries he had.

G stopped at an intersection, leaned over and panted, dizziness overcoming his senses. He kneeled on the blacktop pavement and vomited again and again, bringing up nothing but bitter tasting bile.

Sam came along side his partner and kneeled next to him in the middle of a deserted intersection. Most of the neighborhood had been abandoned years ago. He figured it was due to whatever had occurred in that house at the end of the cul-de-sac.

"I need to—" G hurled again. Nothing but yellowish bile. "I need to see it, damn it, help me."

"I think we need to go—"

"You promised me."

"We can come back another day."

"No, now." G attempted to stand on his own power. Instead, he collapsed onto his knees again and started to fall to his weakened left side.

Sam steadied him. "Promise me you won't jump out of the car again."

"Promise me you'll lock the doors and windows until we reach that house."

"I can do that." He helped his partner stand, took his free hand, and strode back to the Challenger with him. After settling G into the passenger seat, Sam climbed back into the driver's seat. He locked the doors and windows before starting back down the street toward that house. Once in the half circle driveway, he parked the car, setting the parking brake. "Mind telling me what happened back there."

"Flight."

"That means that medicine isn't helping with those symptoms."

"This was beyond anything I ever experienced," G said. "It had nothing to do with the house."

"Then what?"

"A vehicle."

"Your foster Dad's vehicle."

"Yeah. Damn it, yeah."

Sam unlocked the doors.

G waited for a minute to pass before opening the passenger door. He climbed out of the Challenger and faced it, leaning over the car's roof and trying to steady himself. After he felt stronger, G turned back toward the house.

Sam came around to the passenger side of the car. "Lean on me if you need to."

"I need to do this."

"I'm not stopping you."

G grabbed the top of the door frame to steady himself before stumbling toward the house.

Sam came along side him. "Come on, G, use my body to steady yourself."

"No, I need to do this."

"I understand, but you're weakened and drugged and you need me right now," he said. "Stop being so damned stubborn."

G sighed and grasped his partner's left forearm to steady himself and forged forward to the front door. "The key."

"I have it." Sam inserted it into the lock and pushed the door open. Within seconds of opening the door, he drew his gun and a flashlight, readying himself to protect both of them.

"Where's my gun and flashlight?"

"Safely locked in my car."

"Safely?"

"Yeah, you're in no condition to be operating either one."

"Not even a measly flashlight?"

"I'll let you have it later," Sam said. "Trust me, I can and will protect both of us."

"Give me the flashlight, now´."

"In a minute." He guided the way toward the basement, waiting outside the door. "Ready?"

"Open it and I'll prove you're wrong."

Sam opened the door.

G moved over to the now open space and stared down into the darkness. Sam handed him the flashlight. He pointed it toward the left handrail. "Where the hell is it? I swear it was there—damn it." G stumbled on the basement step, swayed to his weakened left side, and slid to the step. He sat before he fell forward. An atrocious memory flooded his mind. He shrieked and covered his face with his sling. "No!" G rocked himself back and forth, trying to push the memory from his mind. "I did not do it. Please. I did not do it. Please. Do not do that. I did not do it." His rocking intensified with each word. G shrieked again and started to slump forward.

Sam rescued G from the step before he lost his balance. He settled his partner on the floor just outside the basement door. Sam laid down beside him, drawing G into his arms and rocking him.

"Please. I did not do it. Please. Do not do that. Please."

"You're safe. He can't hurt you any more. I promise."

G shuddered and cringed, squeezing his eyes closed in an attempt to shut out the frightful image which pushed upward into his mind, threatening to overcome his resolve. Small red handprints speckled and streaked a handrail with bright red blood.

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><p>Thanks for reading my story. And thanks for your reviews.<p> 


	8. Rebar, CH 7

****Thanks for the reviews.

* * *

><p><strong>Title: Fractures<strong>

**Rating: M**

**Slash Warning: **G/Sam

** Story Details and Full Disclaimer on Prologue Page: **_My stories are a work of __**my**__ imagination and I do not ascribe them to the official story canon__. _This is a work intended for entertainment _outside the official storyline_ owned by CBS and the producers of NCIS:LA.

* * *

><p><strong>Reviews appreciated and welcomed<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Rebar<strong>

**Chapter 7**

Sam guided G into his house and down the hall into the master bedroom. "You need a good night sleep." He eased his partner onto the bed. "Let me undress you."

"I'm not helpless."

"No," he said, "you're tired and hurt both mentally and physically."

G sighed and laid back on the bed. "Okay, go for it, just no sex right now."

"No problem, you need to rest." Sam crawled onto the bed beside his partner. "Want to wear a nightgown?"

"Nope, I'm rather fond of your hot, naked body close to mine."

"Aw, skin to skin." He moved down to G's pants, unbuckling the belt. "Did I ever tell you how sexy you are?"

"Numerous times on that first night," he said. "I loved every moment of our first coupling. I miss it. But I'm not ready for more right now."

"Good, I want to wait too." Sam pulled down G's jeans and silky, black boxers to his knees. He climbed off the bed and removed his partner's shoes and socks. Afterward, he removed the jeans and boxers. "Aw, perfect. A close to fully naked man." He dove back on the bed beside his partner's left side. Sam raised G's t-shirt. He gently kissed the taped lower ribs. "Would you like a painkiller before your nap?"

"Yeah, I want to sleep well."

"Put you arms over your head, sweetheart."

"Sweetheart?"

"Yeah, you're my sweetheart."

"Aw, how romantic."

Sam edged closer to G's face. "I'm a romantic at heart."

"I love a romantic man." He winked at him, lifting his arms above his head.

He lifted the shirt upward and off his partner's head. Sam worked the t-shirt over both of G's muscular arms and stopped. His partner's right arm free, he edged the t-shirt over the casted left forearm. He watched the mien on his partner's face change. "You're sweating this?"

G grimaced and flinched. "Hurts a little."

"Where?"

"Upper ribs," he said, panting. "Need to move my arm downward." He started to pull away from his partner's grasp.

"Stop and let me—"

"No!" G jerked his arm away, dragging it down against his hip and holding it close to his body. The t-shirt hung loosely on his left arm.

"Let me finish undressing you—"

"I'm fucking cold, man." He jerked away again and rolled to his right side.

"Scissors then?"

"No, damn it, cold, covers now." G curled into a fetal position naked, shivering and shaking.

Sam grabbed a blanket out of the hall linen closet and draped the dark brown, polar fleece blanket over his partner's body. He tucked it close around his upper body and cuddled behind his partner. "Is it the pain?"

"Yeah, and I'm cold, so cold." He shivered hard.

Sam felt G's forehead with the back of his left hand. "Doesn't make sense."

"What?"

"You're on antibiotics," he said, "you shouldn't have a temperature." Sam slid off the bed and entered the bathroom. He returned with a scanning thermometer.

"Glad you're not into kinky temperature taking," he said, as his partner glided the thermometer across his forehead.

"Now there's something I didn't think of." He grinned wide.

"Glad you didn't." G sniggered.

"At least you haven't lost your sense of humor."

"Not yet," he said. "What is it?"

"A temperature."

"Very funny, the number."

"Too high."

"Sam!"

"Yeah?" He zeroed out the number, climbed off the bed and put away the thermometer. Sam withdrew his cell phone and dialed 911. He gave the operator his address.

"I'm not—"

"Don't start with me, man," he said, tucking the blanket around his partner's naked form. "You're running a high temperature."

"What?" G slightly turned to his back and stared up into his partner's eyes.

"104.8."

"Impossible with antibiotics."

"Should be, but—"

G rolled back to his right side and vomited. "Oh hell."

Sam rushed into the bathroom and brought back a warm, wet washcloth and a towel. "What have you eaten?"

"Nothing since this morning."

"Could be the antibiotics."

"But you're thinking it's the temperature."

"Yep, damn it, not good." He cleaned up the bed and handed G the washcloth.

"I'm gonna hurl again."

Sam grabbed the nearest trash can and shoved it under his partner's chin just in time.

G vomited until only bile came up.

"Not good at all." He rubbed his partner's back. "This will dehydrate you and raise your temperature further. Damn it. Hold this," he said, giving the trash can to his partner. "Be right back. Paramedics are here." Sam returned only minutes later with the paramedics in tow. The same ones from G's former foster house.

G continued to hurl into the trash can.

"We need to place you on your left side," one of the two paramedics said.

"Can't, hurts, hurts bad, no," G said, breathless. His words echoed against the sides of the stainless steel trash can.

"He has two fractured ribs near his collar bone and two cracked ribs on the lower left side."

"All right, stay on your right side."

"G, we're cutting off the t-shirt."

"Wasn't that one of your favorite ones?"

"I can always buy another one," Sam said.

The paramedic cut away the t-shirt while the other one took vitals. With the shirt removed, the first paramedic started an intravenous line in his patient's hand. The second one contacted the hospital to get an okay for an injection anti-emetic.

"Don't make me stay there," G said, slurring his speech and shivering.

Sam stroked his partner's shoulder. "Can't control things from here on out."

Both paramedics lifted G onto the gurney and strapped him into it.

"Watch the ribs." He shuddered, pain rippling through his upper chest at the site of his upper two fractured ribs. G was thankful for the side effects of the anti-emetic. The drowsiness helped him zone out on the way to the hospital. No thinking about the consequences of his newest problem: a fever while taking an antibiotic. As Sam had said, 'not good at all.' He knew it was not good at all too. The antibiotic prevented further escalation of an infection. _Yet I now suffer from the symptoms of an infection._ _This is screwed._

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><p><strong># # #<strong>

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><p>The paramedics unloaded their patient at the hospital's emergency department's entrance and pushed him into the admitting area. "Private, secured exam room," one of them said. They had remembered the protocol for their patient.<p>

"Right this way," an admitting nurse said, leading the men with the gurney in tow to a private, secured cubicle at the far end of a long hallway.

Before they lifted their patient onto the hospital gurney, he started to go into convulsions. "High temperature. Cooling measures needed."

The nurse rushed out of the cubicle and returned with two orderlies and a cooling mattress. The nurse infused the intravenous line with fever reducing medication.

From a distance, Sam watched in horror as his partner and lover suffered while the orderlies positioned him on the cooling mattress. Those fractured and cracked ribs had to hurt bad. G failed to cry out. Tears welled up in Sam's eyes. Not good at all. Sam now understood why his partner failed to cry out. He was unconscious. Not good.

A radiology technician entered the room and set up to take x-rays of the patient's left side. Soon after the technician left, the doctor from earlier in the day entered the cubicle. "He needs surgery to remove something which formerly appeared to be two fractured ribs."

"What?" Sam asked, his jaw hung open.

"Let me show you." The doctor placed the x-ray on the light table on the wall. "It appears this is some type of metal rod."

"How the hell did that get in there?"

"Perhaps when he fell on it," the doctor said. "He needs surgery immediately."

"Give me the forms and I'll sign them," Sam said, staring at the x-ray on the light table as the doctor left. He flipped around on his heels and stared at his partner lying lifeless on the cooling mattress. The nurses had sedated him to control the seizures. Sam gently lifted G's left side to exam the skin on his back. An entrance wound scarred the area opposite of G's upper rib cage. Chills traveled up and down his spine. His partner was attacked in that house.

Shit.

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><p><strong># # #<strong>

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><p>G moaned again. Sam leaped to his feet, coming off the window seat too fast. He felt dizzy. His last wholesome meal was over twenty-four hours ago. Vending machine coffee did not settle well with his gut. He came along side his partner and stroked his face. "I'm here sweetheart."<p>

"Not here."

"What?"

"Find out." G slurred his speech.

"Too late, they all know."

A wide grin spread over his face.

"Glad you're feeling better," Sam said, leaning over the bedrail and kissing G on the lips. "At least you have color now."

"Color?" His eyelids fluttered open.

"There you are, sweetheart, first time this evening I've seen those gorgeous blue eyes," he said. "Yeah, as in you were white as the hospital sheets."

"My eyes were?"

"Come on, man, you'd better be fooling around with me."

G cracked a smile and winked at him.

Sam sighed. "I ought to…"

"Kiss me again."

"Yeah." He leaned over the bed and kissed his partner again. "I missed you."

"How long was I gone?"

"Smart-ass."

G winked at him again. "I wasn't trying to be."

"Yeah, right, you're full of it and I'm glad you're awake."

"From what?"

"You don't remember."

G snuggled under the sheet and cover. "Remember what?"

"You're serious?"

"Damn it, Sam, what are you talking about?"

He sighed, pulled up a chair, and settled down on it.

"Long story."

"Yeah," he said, "you remember me undressing you on my king-size bed."

"That's the last thing I remember, you trying to seduce me."

"Aw, I was undressing you."

"Seducing me."

"Did it work?"

G grinned wide. "Obviously not, because I'm here in the hospital."

Sam stood, pushed the bedrail down, and sat on the bedside. "I've got good news and bad news."

"Give me the bad news first."

"Someone attacked you at that house," he said. "You didn't fall down the stairs."

His jaw dropped open wide.

"The upper two ribs weren't fractured," Sam said, "a piece of rebar was shoved through your upper back."

G instinctively reached over to his upper rib cage and rubbed his fingers across the bandage he found there.

"The intended target was your heart."

"He meant to kill me."

"Yeah, sorry, man."

G dropped his right hand back down to his right side and grasped Sam's left hand. Tears welled up in his eyes. "I don't know who, damn it, I can't even remember half the stuff which happened to me there when I was a child."

"It'll come when you're ready."

"Will you… I need you to… damn it, hold me." He squeezed his eyes shut.

Sam switched positions and laid down next to his partner, wrapping an arm around his waist. "You good?"

"Better," G said, "and the good news?"

"I got you to the hospital in time."

"Did you call 911?"

"Yeah."

"I vaguely remember complaining about that."

"You were vomiting with a temperature of 104.8."

"I remember now, you tried to use a rectal thermometer on me." G smirked.

"Smart-ass." Sam kissed G's neck. "I'd love to take more than your temperature through that method."

"I'm sure you would," he said, chuckling. "That's the last part I remember, joking about what you were doing with the thermometer."

"You had seizures after arriving at the hospital and required emergency surgery," he said. "After I viewed the x-rays for the left side of your upper chest, I turned you to your side and found the entrance wound on your upper back."

"Damn."

"What?"

"At the house, I dismissed it."

"Dismissed what?"

"I thought I heard something in the yard." G sighed. "This is spooky."

"You're spooky." Sam nuzzled his partner's neck and kissed him again. "Better get some rest. Hetty's on her way here."

"You called her?"

"Had to when you required surgery again," he said. "Thought it was only fair to apprise her of your situation."

"Now I have to explain all of this to her."

"Nope, done that for you, sweetheart."

"Then what?"

"The attempt on your life," Sam said. "You investigating that house."

The corners of his mouth turned downward.

"G?"

He sighed. "Can't." G pulled away from his partner. "Get off the bed."

"What's—"

"Stop!" He removed Sam's arm from around his waist. "Too soon to talk about his. Can't do it. Not talking to her or you." He drew the blue, cotton blanket up to his chin with his right hand and squeezed his eyes shut.

Sam sat up in bed, facing his partner. "I wasn't pressuring you to talk, sweetheart." He lowered his voice.

His eyes fluttered open. "Sorry, being defensive, didn't mean to talk to you that way," G said. "Hurting too much and can't reach that damned pain pump."

Sam reached across his partner's lap and depressed the button. "Next time tell me."

"My right arm is pretty much useless except for pulling up the blanket." He sighed. "Wish they would've kept the intravenous line in my left hand." G grasped his partner's hand and brought it to his lips, kissing it. "I wish, damn it, wish none of this ever happened." Tears welled up in his eyes. "I could've prevented it all."

"What?"

"I guess I can do one more thing with my right hand." G kissed Sam's fingers this time. "I wanted to be the one to seduce you."

"You're not making sense."

"To me I am." He sighed again. "I knew what the dispersible drug's side effects were. I decided to use them to seduce you. Only my plan backfired when I got injured. I couldn't make the first move on you."

"You attempted to seduce me." Sam smirked. "I like that."

"Thought you'd be angry with me."

"Hell no, it's the first time someone tried to seduce me, and I rather like the prize."

One by one, G sucked Sam's fingers into his mouth and released them.

"Damn, that's hot," he said, "can't wait until I get you home."

"How long before I can, we can do it?"

"First you've got to get released from the hospital."

Damn. He swore under his breath.

"This was a serious injury."

"I know, damn it, I feel weak from it." G shuddered and sighed.

Sam slid off the bed, leaned over, and kissed his partner. "You need your beauty sleep, sweetheart." He tucked G's right arm under the covers. Afterward, Sam settled into the chair again.

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><p>Thanks for reading my story.<p> 


	9. Unsub, CH 8

Thank you all for the great reviews.

* * *

><p><strong>Title: Fractures<strong>

**Rating: M**

**Slash Warning: **G/Sam

** Story Details and Full Disclaimer on Prologue Page: **_My stories are a work of __**my**__ imagination and I do not ascribe them to the official story canon__. _This is a work intended for entertainment _outside the official storyline_ owned by CBS and the producers of NCIS:LA.

* * *

><p><strong>Reviews appreciated and welcomed<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Unsub<strong>

**Chapter 8**

G screamed in his nightmare. He was a young boy again and his foster father had forced him to do something. In the nightmare, G glanced at his hands more than once. Blood. Dried and fresh blood. He screamed again, seeing the new, white marine rope used for tying up boats hanging above his head. A noose.

G awoke with a start, panting and pulling away from the hands which tried to grab him.

"Easy, sweetheart, calm down."

He opened his eyes and stared directly into his partner's eyes. "Sam, it's you."

"Yep."

"Horrible nightmare."

"Sorry, okay now?"

"With you here," G said, grasping Sam's hand, drawing it across his chest and holding it close to his neck. "I hate these nightmares."

"At least a dozen this morning."

G's jaw dropped. "A dozen."

"Yeah, sorry, sweetheart," Sam said, "this is the first one you awakened from though. Care to share."

"Can't," he said, "Hetty been here?" _Switch and bait quick. I cannot talk about these nightmares._

"She took one glance at your medical history and left."

"I don't know if I like the sound of that."

"She realized the severity of your condition."

"Oh." He breathed out a huge sigh and relaxed against the pillows. "I need to go back to that house."

"Impossible."

"What?"

"It is now a crime scene investigation."

"You've got to stop it!" G released Sam's hand and pulled the cover over his face.

"G?" He attempted to pull the cover down. "What's going on, man?"

"Just stop it, tell her to stop it."

"It's in motion and can't be—"

"Damn it, you don't understand." He sat up straight in bed, wanting to leave, now. "Get me my clothes."

"No way in hell, man."

"I'll find a way."

"You need to tell me what's happening."

G threw the covers off his body and slipped his legs over to his right side.

Sam pushed him back down on the bed. "If you pursue this avenue, I'll call Hetty."

"What the hell for?"

"You know why."

G sat up again pushing back against his partner. "Get out of my way, damn it!"

"What has you so riled up?"

"Ever heard of danger?"

"What?" Sam cocked his head and gave his partner a questioning look. He released his partner and grabbed his cell phone.

"Damn you, stop!" G reached for his partner's cell phone, knocking it out of his hands.

"What the hell was that for?"

"You know, damn it, you need to listen to me," he said, panting from the pain in his upper chest and arm.

"I'm listening."

"You're not!"

Sam leaned over and retrieved his cell phone off the floor. He sat on the bed, blocking his partner's exit from it. "Talk to me," he said, facing him.

"I'm afraid to tell you who I think that man is."

"Who?" He glanced at him sideways.

"The unsub who called me." G sighed, louder than before, disgusted with Hetty's change in plans.

"The one who stole the seismic altering system and the dispersible drug?"

"Yeah, damn it, yeah." He fell back against the pillows and sighed again.

"Hetty needs to know," Sam said. "And Director Vance is here about it."

"How can I forget." The corners of his mouth turned downward. "Well, I can't just tell her."

"Why the hell not?"

"I told you, damn it, I need to see that house again."

"In your condition?"

G turned away from his partner.

"Don't start with me again."

"I'm not starting with you, damn it, I hate this." He faced his partner and glared at him.

"What's that look about?"

"You're siding with Hetty," G said. "And I wish I could fold my arms. Screw this."

"Feeling defensive?"

"No, pissed." He closed his eyes, his only defense left.

"Look at me, man, talk to me."

G kept his gaze averted and opened his eyes. "I think this guy is your worst nightmare, no, my worst nightmare."

"Who is he?"

"I think, not positive, he's possibly related to the man who lived in that house."

"I'm completely confused."

"Sorry, Sam, I know I'm not making sense." The nightmares made sense though. For the first time since the PTSD symptoms intensified, he understood what he was remembering. Shudders shot through his body in recognition of his discovery. "He, the man, my foster dad had a son."

"A son."

"He'd be a couple of years older than me."

"And he would try to kill you?"

G sighed. "Damn it, I don't know," he said, "I hardly remember him. He was gone when I first arrived there."

"Gone where?"

"You're asking me questions for which I have no answers."

"Let's forget about trying to put these pieces together," Sam said. "You need to rest. I'm gonna go get some more nasty coffee."

"Great coffee across the street and I could use something hot to drink."

"Like some tea?"

"Yeah, you choose."

"Okay, sounds good." Sam stood and leaned over to kiss his partner.

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><p><strong># # #<strong>

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><p>G knew it should not be this simple to leave the hospital Against Medical Advice. The situation necessitated immediate answers. He was the only one who knew how to get them. G remembered where his partner hid the extra key in the Challenger. Now he just hoped it was still there. As much as Sam loathed someone ripping off one of his beloved cars, he kept an extra key inside an unlocked vehicle. That much G failed to understand. He sat in the passenger seat and slipped his hand under the seat, searching for the magnetic key holder. Gotcha! Afterward he slid over to the driver's seat, not an easy task with his almost useless left upper arm. G was thankful that he pumped a load of painkillers and anti-anxiety medicines through his veins before removing the intravenous line. On the other hand, it meant driving under the influence. He was impaired already with his left arm injured. This was not a good time to push the speed limit.<p>

Upon parking in the circular driveway at his former foster house, G checked the glove compartment for his own cell phone. It was not there and that meant using his partner's cell phone. Sam left it on the bedside table in plain sight. He wondered for a split second if his partner planted it there on purpose and had planned to trail him. The thought quickly vanished when he grabbed it off the table. The only item he missed right now was his SIG-Sauer P229. Damn. He hated going into the house without being armed. However, he desperately needed answers to the questions his memories brought to the surface. Sam used to keep an extra weapon in a floor safe in the trunk. Time to test that theory. He opened the trunk and pushed aside the spare tire exchanging kit. The safe. He keyed in the last known combination and raised the lid. A Glock 17 with bullets. Perfect. He loaded the weapon and started to put it in his waist holster. Damn, no waist holster. No flashlight. Early evening. There was enough light outside. But inside his former foster house darkness prevailed in more ways than one.

Chills traveled up his spine. That same feeling he had when he got injured here came to the forefront. He whirled around, wobbled on his feet—_damn drugs make me unsteady_—and regained his balance, pointing the Glock 17 and checking the bushes to his left and right. Someone was here. G sensed it. He slipped the Challenger's keys into a deep pants pocket of the powder blue surgical suit he ripped off from the hospital. G trudged toward the door, wishing he now had a sling for his injured chest and left arm. He stopped short of the front door. It was wide open. G whirled around to scan the yard behind him again, steadying himself was easier this time. He compensated for the drugs in his system. Before he turned back toward the front door, he swore something moved to his left. He pointed his gun in the direction and fired off a round. Someone fell to the ground hard, making a loud thud. G turned back to the house and quickly entered it.

Before he reached the hallway, G heard a thunderous roar which sounded as if a runaway freight train was barreling down on him. He was tackled by a force of incredible strength and bulk. His weapon flew through the air, landing without firing off a round at the far end of the hallway. A heavy body covered his back, pressing him hard into the unforgiving floor. The breath knocked out of him, G gasped for air. He stifled a yelp.

"Bastard!" A man's voice yelled. "You shot me."

The moment the man spoke G knew he was the unsub who had contacted him by phone. With this new relevation, shivers traveled up and down his spine. Blood dripped onto the floor in front of G's face.

"Now you will pay for that!" The man climbed off of G and flipped him over onto his back as if he were a fish in a frying pan. "We meet face to face for the first time before I give you more pain."

G stared into the eyes of the man who was his foster father's biological son. "I thought it was you." A six foot six inch tall man with reddish blonde hair, broad shouldered, more muscular than Sam, and dressed in navy fatigues towered over him. G never thought someone like this existed: a man more muscular than Sam. He shuddered. Fresh red blood dripped from a gunshot wound to the man's right upper arm. Even with all the drugs in his system, G shot him exactly where he had aimed his gun. He silently congratulated himself.

"You!"

"Who did you expect?"

"Your partner, no matter, you will suffer for shooting me." The man grabbed G by a leg and dragged him out the front door onto the hard, cement front porch. "Your keys."

"Screw you!"

"You are in no position to be acting like this." The man stepped over to G's left side. He pressed his foot into the site where he had shoved a piece of rebar into it the day before. "The keys."

G writhed in pain in spite of being doped up with painkillers and anti-anxiety medicine.

"Want me to break that arm again like my father did to you?"

G shook his head.

"Give me the damned keys," the man said, "you think my father was an evil bastard. I make him look as if he were a domesticated and tamed lion. If you do not cooperate, I will torture you worse than he tortured you." The man removed his foot.

He flashed back to a scene of torture his foster father put him through in the basement. G shuddered hard. His son _was_ his worst nightmare. He desperately tried to remember the conversation between his foster father and foster mother. Something about that day was significant. If only he remembered what it was. He sifted through his memories for a word to stop this man's further escalation of pain and torture.

"Do I need to search you?" The man asked. "I will not make it pleasant. I am not like your boyfriend."

G maintained his composure in spite of this man knowing about Sam and him. The man had stalked them. He knew where they lived. Involuntary shudders traveled down his body. He fished into the deep pocket on his pants for the keys. This guy was not gonna let up no matter what he said. He decided to give into his wishes. G tossed the guy his keys.

"First intelligent move you have made," the man said. "Time for a ride." The brawny man lifted G off the porch and threw him over his left shoulder as if he were a sack of potatoes. He opened the trunk and tossed his passenger into it.

G stifled a yelp as his wounded shoulder hit the spare tire changing kit.

"Promise me you will not make any noise back here."

He nodded in agreement, not wanting to cause this well-built man to become more enraged than he was already.

The man took a roll of duct tape out his pocket and wrapped G's wrists and ankles with it. "I will skip the mouth for now unless you fuck up and start screaming." He slammed the trunk closed, plunging his unwitting passenger into total darkness.

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><p>Thank you for reading my story.<p> 


	10. Despair, CH 9

Thanks for the reviews.

Sam and G whump ahead.

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><p><strong>Title: Fractures<strong>

**Rating: M**

**Slash Warning: **G/Sam

** Story Details and Full Disclaimer on Prologue Page: **_My stories are a work of __**my**__ imagination and I do not ascribe them to the official story canon__. _This is a work intended for entertainment _outside the official storyline_ owned by CBS and the producers of NCIS:LA.

* * *

><p><strong>Reviews appreciated and welcomed<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Despair<strong>

**Chapter 9**

Sam raced well over the speed limit through the streets of Los Angeles towards his destination. Hetty had given him permission to go faster than was safe for the traffic and weather. Dark foreboding clouds blackened the skies over most of the San Fernando Valley. An occasional huge water globule pelted the Mercedes's front windshield. Sam allowed the huge globules to accumulate, declining to use the wipers, even on the intermittent speed. He loathed any interruption in his thoughts and his race towards his goal.

The faint signal from his cell phone lingered in Sam's mind. Questions remained in his mind too and he swiftly dismissed them. He refused to believe anything less than his partner and now lover being alive.

Four days has passed since G left the hospital AMA.

Sam shuddered again, thinking about his partner lying somewhere close to death, alone. He pushed the morbid thought away, again, and brushed his wet eyes with the back of his right hand. Damn it. He was too close to his partner.

This reminded him of one thing, losing Dom. He shoved that horrid thought out of his mind and pressed the gas peddle closer to the floor. Only this was worse. Sam was in love.

No cell phone connection until this morning. A faint sound. Too familiar. Sam cringed and gripped the steering wheel tighter, steeling himself against a truth he dare not speak.

No one at NCIS spoke the words rather they all remembered. He saw it in their eyes. A deep-seated uneasiness lingered far too long after Dom had died. It was still in his team's eyes. Their minds worked overtime, using their survelliance equipment as a bandaid against the unknown.

No one wanted to leave the OPS Center. 'You go find him.' Her words spoken soft and resigned to whatever fate befell their lead agent.

No one mentioned his name. Sam held his tongue too, unwilling to say the unspeakable.

'Bring him back to us.' Her words spoken again, this time even softer. She felt responsible. Her choice placed her friend's son in a tumultuous family.

It was Sam's fault, his responsibility. He failed to listen to his partner. Sam vowed to change… if only… He wiped the wetness from his eyes again.

Another large globule splashed onto the windshield as he turned into his partner's neighborhood. The Challenger. Sam sighed. At least she was intact. He pulled up behind his car and parked G's Mercedes sedan. After checking over his car from one end to the other, he called the towing service and drew his SIG-Sauer P229. Nothing more to chance. Never again. If only… He blinked away the tears falling from his reddened eyes.

In the heavy air of a pre-storm afternoon which now looked as if it were early evening from the ever more darkening clouds over the San Fernando Valley, Sam edged closer to the entrance of G's home. He kept to the shadows against the house. At the front door, he stopped and listened for more than five minutes by his watch before testing the door. One slight push and the front door creaked open. Sam shivered. He stood motionless listening to his surroundings outside and inside the house. Silence. Sam slinked inside G's home. When he found nothing in the living room, dining room and kitchen, he edged toward the bedrooms. He crept along the hallway, searching each bedroom and bathroom. Upon reaching the last bedroom on the right, Sam gasped and stared into the room, hesitating by the doorway.

G's lifeless body half naked, bruised and bloodied, lying on his side in the closet with his wrists and ankles wrapped in black duct tape.

Sam steeled himself and rushed over to his partner's side. He crouched down, putting an ear to his partner's chest. Shallow. Staccato. Breaths. Sam straightened and searched the attached bathroom for a linen closet. Nothing. Damn it. He stared for a few seconds at the brand new crisp white Egyptian cotton sheets G had bragged about getting for his new California king-sized bed. Sam threw the comforter off the bed and yanked the top sheet off it. He dragged it over to his partner and draped it over his body, tucking it around him. Afterward he gently rolled G unto the white sheet and kneeled at his side, checking every square inch of his partner's body. He decided to leave the duct tape on until he had the specialized solvent which would be gentle enough to remove it without causing further injury. Satisfied with his thorough inspection of G's bruised and battered body, Sam holstered his weapon and lifted his partner into his arms and carried him toward the Mercedes.

Before he started his journey to find his partner, Sam had prepared the passenger seat of the Mercedes. A blanket. Water. Painkillers. Anti-anxiety medicine. A sedative. He hoped for the best outcome. A living, breathing man. He settled his partner into the front seat which was already reclined and waiting for him. The Mercedes's reclining seats afforded the most comfort compared to the Challenger. These reclined fully, making the seats more like a single bed. Sam tucked the cerise red, polar fleece blanket around G's body. Before closing the door, he leaned over and planted the most tender and softest kiss on his lover's lips. "I love you, G." He started to pull back.

"Sam." His eyes fluttered open. Wetness flooded them. "I thought—"

"Don't you even say it," he said, "I'm here and you're alive and that's all that matters for now." Sam straightened and closed the passenger door. He breathed in a long, steady breath and released it in the same way. After sitting in the driver's seat, he locked the doors and windows and took out a burn phone.

"The duct tape, please—"

"I have just the remedy for it," Sam said. "I don't want to hurt you further."

"Can't, please, need it off, damn it." G squeezed his eyes shut and turned his head toward the passenger door.

"Sorry, I know, let me do it without hurting you."

He opened his eyes and glanced in Sam's direction. "I hurt."

"Want some painkillers?"

"Here?"

"Yep."

"Please."

"Let's do that first." Sam slid the burn phone into the dashboard holder. He grabbed the bottle of sublingual morphine tablets. "Slip this under your tongue. Open up."

"What?"

"Come on, sweetheart, just do it."

"It works—damn—sorry." G opened his mouth and allowed Sam to pop a tablet under his tongue.

"That ought to hold you until we get to Hetty's."

"No!" He started to sit upright.

"G, come on, relax," Sam said, gently pressing him back down onto the seat.

"I don't want to go to her house."

"Not an option."

G held up his taped hands. "Take it off."

"I can try, but—"

"Another excuse?" Some tears spilled over his eyelashes onto his cheeks.

"That duct tape is extra sticky and strong."

"Tell me about it." G sighed in digust. "I tried to rip it off with my teeth." He rested his arms on his chest. "Hetty angry with me?"

"Hell no, man, she…" Tears welled up in his eyes. He dialed his supervisor's home phone number and left a message. "I have him. Bruised and battered." He disconnected, turned the burn phone over, and removed the battery and GPS. Sam crushed the GPS card between his sinewy fingers.

"She what?"

"I… damn it… I can't talk about this." Sam faced the front of the car. "Maybe later."

"Then I'm screwed."

"What?"

"Nobody wants to talk to me."

Sam faced him again. "Before I start the car did you need any more painkiller?"

"I'm at an 8."

He opened the bottle. "Stick out your tongue." Sam placed two more sublingual morphine tablets under his partner's tongue. After closing the lid, he grasped G's restrained wrists. "This has been difficult for the entire team."

"What?"

"You missing was too much like someone else we all barely knew."

"How long was I missing?"

"Four days."

G's jaw dropped. He jerked his hands away from his partner's grasp. A flood of flashbacks mixed with the recent brutal beatings by his foster father's son ripped through his mind. He squeezed his eyes shut and cried out.

"Easy, man." Sam reached over and caressed his lover's face. "I'm here. You're with me now." He abruptly turned back to the steering wheel, resting his chin on its leather covered outer rim. Sam shoved the key in the ignition and started the engine. "I'm glad you're alive." His softer than normal voice mixed with the sound of globules of rain now dancing against the windshield. Still he refused to turn on the windshield wipers. An occasional ice pellet hit the safety glass, melting instantly when it hit the heated surface.

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><p><strong># # #<strong>

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><p>G watched the plashes of rain and allowed the steady beat to lull him closer into a drugged induced sleep. Yet as soon as his eyes closed, the images of the powerful son towering over him shocked his body into a fully awake state. He cried out again.<p>

Sam reached over and stroked his partner's thigh. "I'm here."

He forced his eyes shut again and listened to the steady plash of the rain and ice pellets against the windshield. G reached the drugged stupor state sooner this time. The same results again brought him swimming to the surface of consciousness gasping for air and ready to fight. He yelped and jerked away from the hand on his thigh. "Please, stop!"

"Easy, man, it's Sam, you're safe now."

G sighed with a staccato breath, still gasping for air. "Take them off, damn it, now." He thrust his arms toward Sam, coming fully awake, eyes wide open. G attempted to sit forward.

"No, lie back."

"Need to, take it off, please, damn it." Tears flooded his eyes.

Sam pulled into his supervisor's driveway and parked close to the front door. "I'll take care of that ASAP." He turned off the engine and sighed. Sam exited the Mercedes and dug deep into his pocket to pull out the house key Hetty had given to him. He unlocked the front door, leaving it ajar. Next, he opened the passenger door and lifted his partner into his arms.

"Fuck!" G jerked away and flailed his secured arms.

"Easy, man."

"Next time, damn it… warn me." He willed himself to calm his breathing.

Sam carried him into the house, kicked the door closed with his foot, and brought him over to the elevator.

"Upstairs?"

"Yep, she's got a room set aside for you with a private bathroom."

"And you?"

"There's plenty of room for me to stay with you." Sam stepped off the elevator and trudged down a long hallway to a suite at the end.

"No."

"What?"

"I can't."

"Why?"

"This is… it's hers… her bedroom."

"Yep, and she insisted." Sam grabbed a clean sheet from the linen closet and brought it over to the bed. He spread it out as best he could and deposited G onto the center of it. "I'll return in a few minutes. Try not to move around too much."

He watched his partner leave and freaked out. G curled onto his side in a tight fetal position, howling and rocking.

Sam rushed into the bedroom suite. "Easy, man, I'm here." He sat on the bed close to his partner. "You're safe," he said, stroking G's head to calm him.

"Can't, sorry, can't, don't leave me, can't, sorry," G said, tears flooding his eyes.

"I need to get the things from the car," he said. "I promise I'll be back." Sam leaned over and kissed his partner's head and climbed off the bed.

"I can't do this."

"Do what?" He came around to face him.

"You leaving the room," G said. "It freaks me out."

"If you want those restraints off I'll need to find the ingredients downstairs in the kitchen."

"Maybe later."

"You're willing to keep your arms—"

"You don't understand!" G screamed at his partner and rolled onto his back.

"I'll be downstairs for ten minutes."

"Too long, damn it, can't do it, can't tolerate it, won't tolerate it." His words came out as if pressed through a sieve, by bits and pieces.

"Easy, man, relax," Sam said, sitting on the bed beside him. "Give me five minutes max."

"I'll try, but don't expect me to keep my cool."

"Believe me, I don't."

"Why?" G sighed and stretched his aching arms.

Sam faced away from his partner and stared at the wall in front of him.

"Damn it, I can handle the truth, tell me."

He stood and walked over to the far wall, about ten feet from the left side of the bed. "You're now suffering from Acute Traumatic Stress and Post Traumatic Stress," Sam said without facing his partner.

G drew the blanket closer to his face with his teeth. "Fuck."

"Five minutes." He left the room not saying anything more.

G attempted to roll back to his side. His strength failed him. He panted and tried again. Crap. Once more he rolled his body back and forth, trying to gain momentum. Yet he was unable to finish the move. "Bastard! I'll kill you." Tears filled his sapphire blue eyes.

Sam rushed into the room with a sack full of supplies. "You talking to me?"

"No, him, I'll kill him."

"I'm afraid you'll have to wait your turn behind Hetty and me."

"Very funny." The corners of his mouth turned downward.

"Not funny, oh well, let's see if I can't get that extra sticky duct tape off your arms and legs." Sam stepped into the bathroom and read the directions on the bottle of Krud Kutter or KK as he loved to call it. The best cleaning liquid he knew of and Hetty had a refill jug under her kitchen sink. A woman after his tastes. He never knew she was into this stuff, cleaning lady incognito. Sam mixed a batch of diluted KK for removing the sticky tape from skin into an empty spray bottle. Next, he protected the bed with a plastic sheet he found in the linen closet. He placed several towels over the plastic sheet. Sam settled on the bed next to his partner. "Okay, this is how we're working this. I'll spray a section of the tape. Then I'll loosen the tape. Next, I'll lift it off your skin and hair."

"Just rip the damned crap off my arm already!" G sighed extra loud, disgusted with the whole process.

"Believe me, you don't want me ripping this off your arm—"

"Start now, hurry." He squeezed his eyes shut and readied himself for the procedure. G shrieked when Sam sprayed the cool liquid on his arms and hands. He jerked away from his partner. "Stop!" He shrieked and jerked, making unpurposeful movements and pulling back from Sam's attempts to grasp his hands.

"Come on, G, stop fighting me."

His eyes flew open. "I'm not doing this any more!"

"Easy, man, what's with—"

"Bastard!"

"I'm not the enemy here."

"No?" His eyes widened. "You're my worst nightmare. Just rip it off, damn it." G panted and thrusted his hands in Sam's face.

"Do you realize what this crap will do to your skin and hair?"

"I don't give a fuck, remove it, now!" G's eyes widened more.

Sam got off the bed. His partner had that same crazed gaze in his eyes as he did in the car. "I'm finished." He set the spray bottle on the nightstand. "We'll try this later after you calm down."

"What the hell do you expect me to do?"

"Probably just what you're doing." He grabbed a book off the nightstand and sat in a upholstered rocking chair.

"What the fuck, now you're gonna sit there reading a book while I'm suffering?" G relaxed his body, knowing that his partner was not going to start another round of 'remove the tape' in the near future. He sighed extra loud.

"Got something to say?"

"Screw you!"

"I'd like to screw you," Sam whispered.

"What did you say?"

"Never mind, you're not a the place to hear it."

"At least help me turn over to my side before you get so damned engrossed in that fucking book." G yelled at him.

"I'm right here in the room with you," Sam said. "There's no need to yell."

"Wanted to make sure you heard me."

"Yeah, I get it, you're pissed and taking it out on me, no problem." He replaced his page marker and closed the book. "Which side?"

"Right." G sighed loud.

Sam pushed him over to his right side and stroked his head.

"Feels good."

He sat on the bed and stroked G's head. "Need painkillers?"

"Not with this, feels good," he whispered, his eyes closing. "Don't stop. Sorry I'm so edgy."

"Like I said, I understand." He leaned over and kissed G's head.

"Can you, damn, kind of cuddle with me?"

"You mean not too close."

"Yeah, like you are at the head of the bed without lying next to me."

Sam curled himself as tight as he was able at the head of the bed. His bulky, muscular body prevented him from the position he desired, curling around his partner's head. Sam's head faced the back of G's head and his feet faced the front of his head. "How's this?"

"Perfect, keep stroking my head like that." G sighed and relaxed further into his partner's touch. Tears flooded his eyes again. He wished for something to wipe them. His lower lip trembled. "Please, damn it, make it stop."

"You want me to—"

"No, it, the horrid images, make them stop."

"The son?"

"Both." His salty tears dripped on the blanket. He sniffled, holding back the flood of pain which threatened to break through his defenses. _Hold on one more day. He will find me. I know he will and he did. I feel lost even with him here this close to me. Lost in a sea of mixed up emotions and awful images from which I cannot escape._

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><p>Thanks for reading my story. Your reviews are appreciated and welcomed.<p> 


	11. Loss, CH 10

**Title: Fractures**

**Rating: M**

**Slash Warning: **G/Sam

** Story Details and Full Disclaimer on Prologue Page: **_My stories are a work of __**my**__ imagination and I do not ascribe them to the official story canon__. _This is a work intended for entertainment _outside the official storyline_ owned by CBS and the producers of NCIS:LA.

* * *

><p><strong>Reviews appreciated and welcomed<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Loss<strong>

**Chapter 9**

"Hold me, please, Sam."

"You sure this time?" he asked, lying down behind his partner.

"I need it, damn it, but, crap, just do it already before I change my mind again." G released a long, staccato sigh and readied his body.

"Relax, sweetheart." Sam rested his left arm across his lover's waist. "We good?"

G sighed again and relaxed into the feel of his lover's warmth. "I think." He leaned backward against his partner's muscular body. An image shot through his mind at lightning speed. "Shit!" G attempted to maintain contact with Sam's body. But he lost the fight against the oncoming memory of his foster father's son. He jerked away and shrieked, tears rolling down his tear stained face. "Damn it, I hate this, hate it." G buried his face in the blood stained sheet under his body.

Sam sat up and stroked his lover's head. For now, it was all his partner could handle for touch. It pained him. He wanted, no, needed to take his lover in his arms and make love to him. Wetness formed in the corners of his eyes.

Time for some intervention he knew his partner would loathe. There was one more thing Sam needed to do, remove the duct tape from his lover's wrists and ankles. He stood and entered the bathroom. Next, he prepared a syringe full of muscle relaxant which he had requested earlier in the evening from Hetty's personal physician. He drew up a dose big enough to keep his partner relaxed for at least four hours. Afterward, Sam prepared the accessories needed to remove the tape without making a big mess of Hetty's bed. He slinked into the bedroom with an alcohol swab and the syringe. Before his unaware partner knew what had happened, Sam injected him with the full dose of the muscle relaxant.

"You bastard, you know I hate needles." G yelled at him.

"Yep, need some painkiller?" Sam maintained a cool demeanor.

"That wasn't painkiller?"

"Nope."

"Under the tongue?"

"Yep, four like last time."

"Yeah, sounds about right." He wanted to numb his deepening feelings of depression and loss. G opened his mouth as a young bird would to accept his mother's sustenance.

Sam set up the necessary accessories on the bed again.

"No!" G yelled at him.

"I hear you, man, but I'm gonna remove that tape."

"What the hell did you give me?"

"Why?"

"I feel strange."

"As in?"

"Too relaxed for it to be a painkiller."

"It wasn't."

"Tell me damn it or so help me…"

"You'll jump off the bed and tackle me."

"Not fair." G tried to stick his tongue out. He thrust it out about a half an inch. "What was it?"

"Stuff."

"Screw you," he said, slurring his words. G twisted his body, attempting to roll onto his back. He flopped back onto his side, as if he were a fish out of water flopping around with adrenlin filling his useless muscles. It was as if his brain and body were disconnected. "You'd better fucking tell me what it was."

"A muscle relaxant."

"Bastard!"

"You'll thank me when I'm finished."

"Fat chance."

"I promise you will." Sam picked up the spray bottle. "Ready?" He sprayed a small area on his partner's wrists.

"Fuck!" G attempted to jerk away from his partner. Nothing happened. He failed to move his body even an eighth of an inch. "Please, make this stop, damn it, please."

"It's better this way, man," he said, working quickly to remove the ultra sticky substance after he removed the duct tape. Only one thing was on his side now, the two drugs which worked together to keep his partner immobile.

Two hours into his task, Sam had removed all the tape and sticky residue from his partner's wrists, arms, and hands, and half it from his ankles and feet. "How's the pain level?"

"Stupified."

"A number, G, come on."

"1."

"Excellent."

"And my stupified level—zero."

"Pleasantly drugged," Sam said, lifting and removing a long portion of the duct tape off his partner's ankles and feet. "You'll be happy to know I am about one hour from finishing this task."

"All of it?"

"Yep, and without leaving a speck of the sticky residue on your skin."

"No sign of anything?"

"I wouldn't say that." Sam eyed the dark red, deep groves in his partner's wrists. G struggled too much and it caused his wrists to become burned from the tape's adhesive. His ankles were spared the brunt of his struggles. Sam sighed.

"What?"

"I'll show you when you've awakened from your drug induced rest."

"You better not leave any—"

"I didn't, man."

"What?"

"By fighting the restraints—"

"Oh shit." Tears flooded his eyes again. At least his tears worked.

Sam finished removing the last of the tape from G's ankles and feet. He pulled the towels from under his partner's hands and feet and tossed them into the dirty laundry. Afterward, he brought clean ones in and placed them under his partner's hands and feet. Sam returned from another trip to the bathroom with a basin of warm water, a wash cloth and liquid soap. He lovingly washed G's hands and feet, removing any residue from the KK solution. On his final trip to the bathroom, Sam brought another basin of water and rinsed his partner's hands and feet.

After cleaning up, Sam settled down on the upholstered rocking chair with his book. It was one he had found in Hetty's extensive library downstairs. Within a few minutes, his eyes closed and he fell asleep. He immediately startled awake when he heard his lover's whimper.

Sam decided to try a different position with his partner. He climbed onto the bed, facing him. He caressed his partner's face.

G's eyes fluttered open. He gasped.

"Easy, man."

"What are you—"

"Thought I'd try this for a change."

"Better."

"Good," Sam said. "Interested in a bed bath?"

"I'd prefer a shower."

"Can be arranged." He started to slide off the bed.

"Wait, thank you for this." G lifted both of his hands. "Sorry I lost it." He grimaced.

"Don't need to apologize, sweetheart." Sam reached out and grasped the cast on his partner's left arm. "May I?" He leaned over and kissed down the cast to the bruised and reddened area surrounding his partner's wrist. "Sorry this hurts. Need painkillers again before you shower?"

"Yeah."

Sam reached into his pocket and pulled out a prescription bottle. He poured four sublingual tablets into his palm. "Open up." Sam fed him the tablets. "Let me prepare you for the shower." He slid off the bed and grabbed several plastic trashbags. He taped the shoulder and chest area. "I need you lie on your back. Need help?"

"No." He rolled onto his back.

Sam wrapped his partner's left arm in a plastic bag, sealing it off with tape. "This arm probably needs to be recasted," he said, "the arm needs the wrist covered for stability."

"Not happening."

"Come on G, you want this to heal properly, right."

He sighed. "Just help me to the shower."

Sam pulled the blanket and bloodied sheet off his partner and balled them up under his left arm. He helped his partner sit on the side of the bed. "Feeling okay?"

"Yeah."

He sat next to him, slid his right arm around G's waist, and stood, bringing his partner up onto his feet.

"Crap!" He swayed back and forth. "Thought this would be easier."

"You're weak and need to eat."

"Guess water and painkillers isn't enough sustenance." He cracked a wry smile.

"Lean into me." Sam took a couple of steps forward, practically dragging his partner with him. "I can pick you up."

"I need to do this." G grimaced and panted, trying keep the pain at bay.

Sam moved toward the bathroom. It was about five feet from the bed to the bathroom door. G slid his feet forward unable to lift his weakened legs. "You're doing great, man." Sam dropped the dirty blanket and sheet into the hamper just inside the door. G slid his feet more and entered the tiled bathroom.

"Warm."

"Yeah, radiant heat."

"Feels good." He kept his pace sliding his feet along side his partner. At one point, G edged past Sam's body and caught a glimpse of himself in the huge mirror over the double vanity sinks. His jaw dropped. "Shit!" He started to collapse.

Sam wrapped his arms G's waist, bringing his partner into his side to steady him.

Tears welled up in his sapphire blue eyes. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"You couldn't handle it before now."

"I'm…" He glanced in the mirror sideways, catching another glimpse of his bruised and bloodied body. "Fuck! Take me out of here now."

Sam started to lift him into his arms.

"No, the shower, quick." G yelled, clawing at his partner's chest. "Faster."

He sidestepped him toward the rough marble, walk-in shower.

Before Sam reached the shower, G caught a full on view of his body in the mirror. He shrieked and writhed, attempting to pull away from his partner. "I can't, damn it, help me."

Sam steadied him at his side. "Easy, man." He guided his partner into the shower and over to a teak covered bench by a frosted window. "Here, sit."

"You're leaving me?" He stuttered and trembled.

"I'm removing my clothes and adjusting the water."

"Hurry, damn this, I need you, I can't stand myself like this, what the hell is wrong with me, damn it."

Sam stripped off his clothes in record time. He stepped back into the shower and adjusted the water. "There's nothing wrong with you, sweetheart."

"Right, I can't even look at myself in the mirror without coming unglued."

"Remember I discussed your condition with you."

"But… damn it, this is beyond that."

Sam grabbed the liquid soap and shampoo off a ledge. He settled down next to his lover on the bench. "You don't remember what he did to you."

G averted his eyes, staring across the shower at the three, floor to ceiling, pillars of glass blocks which brought light into the shower. "I blocked it out," he said, without turning back to face his partner. "I must have because I don't remember anything that happened in my house."

"A healthy, protective response by your brain."

"If it's so healthy then why did I just freak out when I saw myself in the mirror?"

"Your body became numb during the abuse to protect itself."

"Give me the soap." G pressed his hand toward Sam without looking.

"There's nothing to feel ashamed of, sweetheart."

"Nothing? What the hell? NOTHING?"

"Easy, man." Sam placed the plastic bottle of liquid soap into his hand.

G set it on the warm rough marble tile at his feet. He pumped a handful of the woodsy smelling liquid into one hand. G stared at the soap as tears rolled down his face. "I can't, help me."

Sam drew him backward into the warmth of his naked, muscular body. He wiped the soap onto his hands. "Easy, sweetheart, relax into me," he whispered into his lover's left ear. Sam started with G's chest massaging the soap into his cut up and bruised skin. "That's it." He felt his chest heaving up and down with his lover's crying. "I love you. It doesn't matter to me what your body looks like. I love you. I love what's inside you. Do you hear me, sweetheart?"

"Just wash me." He squeezed his eyes shut.

"Your body is only part of—"

"Damn it!" G shot forward, his eyes wide open. "Stop! I'm ugly now. I thought the five bullet wounds from the assassination attempt years ago were bad. But this… crap… I hate it. Give me the damned soap!"

Sam leaned over and picked the bottle off the floor. "Here."

G pumped another glob of the soap into his palm and set the bottle on the bench beside him.

Sam picked it up and pumped some onto his own chest.

"Fuck this!" G screamed and rinsed the soap off in the water. "I'm finished."

"Allow me to—"

"Allow you to wash my disgusting body?" He was crying now, tears streaming down his face. "You want to touch this? What the fuck is wrong with you? I'm despicable. I'm disgusting. Don't even because I know you really don't want to—"

Sam gently lifted G's chin and planted a tender, soft kiss on his lips. Sam wrapped his arms around his lover and drew him back into his body. "I really do want to." Sam rocked him in his arms. "I love your body. It will heal. I promise." G buried his face between Sam's shoulder and neck. Sam pumped some soap into his hands and washed his lover's back. "There's nothing wrong with me that making love to you can't cure."

"What?" G lifted his head and glanced at him sideways.

"Washing you is making love to you."

G rested his head on Sam's shoulder. "Please make love to me."

Sam pumped some more soap into his hands and smoothed his hands over G's shoulders and neck.

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><p>Thanks for reading.<p> 


	12. Dispossession, CH 11

**Title: Fractures**

**Rating: M**

**Slash Warning: **G/Sam

** Story Details and Full Disclaimer on Prologue Page: **_My stories are a work of __**my**__ imagination and I do not ascribe them to the official story canon__. _This is a work intended for entertainment _outside the official storyline_ owned by CBS and the producers of NCIS:LA.

* * *

><p><strong>Reviews appreciated and welcomed<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Dispossession<strong>

**Chapter 11**

G stretched for the first since Sam rescued him from his house. Before this he feared what a stretch might do. Hurt him more. Pain was the last thing he wanted to suffer more of right now. He propped a pillow up behind him and positioned himself against it. On a scale of one to ten, it was the lowest for comfort. He grabbed another pillow and started to place it behind him.

"Need some help?" Sam asked him from the upholstered rocker across the room.

"Thought I could do it myself."

"Interested in some breakfast this morning?"

"That was the fastest change of subject I've ever heard you make."

"You're getting frustrated and I thought a change of scenery might help lighten the mood."

"And a full stomach?"

"Something like that," Sam said. "Your chariot awaits you."

"Chariot?" G sat up straight in bed.

He closed his book and stood, placing the book on the seat. Sam strode to the door and opened it. "Your chariot, sir." He motioned with his hands.

"Looks a little small." G stared at the wheelchair outside the bedroom door.

"You should be able to squeeze into it for your short ride down the elevator to the family room."

"What are my alternatives?"

"Your slow, slinking, slide on your feet or a ride in my arms."

G sighed. "I don't have the strength to walk all that distance."

"Carry or ride?"

"I'll try the squeeze."

Sam brought the wheelchair into the bedroom and helped G over to it.

"I'm sitting naked in this—"

"Don't jump to conclusions." He held out a chocolate brown fleece bathrobe and assisted his partner with dresssing in it.

"This is better." He eased himself down into the tight space. "She's more petite than I imagined."

"Or you gained weight eating nothing." Sam smirked.

"Very funny." G cracked a wry smile.

"You're gaining that humor back."

"A little at a time." He placed his feet on the footrests. "With your help."

Sam leaned over and kissed the top of his head. "I enjoyed our time in the shower last night."

"If it wasn't for you, I wouldn't have enjoyed it at all." G glanced up into his lover's eyes. "Thank you."

He pushed his lover in the wheelchair toward the elevator. When they reached the first floor, Sam parked the wheelchair in the kitchen. "Want to watch me or sit in the family room?"

"Alone?"

"I'm gonna be out here making breakfast."

"Here."

Sam pushed the wheelchair over to the kitchen nook. "This will be more comfortable than your butt squished into that." He helped him sit at the table. "Milk or water?"

"Milk for now."

The doorknob on the garge door turned and G stared at it unable to move. He was about ready to scream when his supervisor came inside. G sighed. "Hetty."

"Normally, I'd call before coming over, but I need to speak with you," she said, coming up to Sam's side. "Privately, Mr. Hanna." Hetty pulled him aside until they were out of earshot from the kitchen. "Does he know about your house," she whispered.

"I haven't discussed anything with him yet," Sam said. "He's not ready to—"

"You need to, I'm sorry, there's been another development," she said, keeping her voice low.

"What now?" He sighed. "I don't know if he or I can take any more developments. If you know what I mean."

"I do." Hetty clasped her hands behind her back. She eyed the kitchen corridor to make sure her other agent was out of earshot. "His house got hit too."

Sam covered his mouth. Tears welled up in the corners of his eyes. "He can't take it."

"A total loss."

"Damn it."

"Destruction of evidence."

"This guy is just… pure evil," Sam said.

"Need more intel on the unsub," Hetty said. "ASAP."

"I'll see what I can do this afternoon."

"Thank you, Mr. Hanna, you two take care, extra security arrives here later this morning."

"I guess it's necessary."

"Absolutely." She gently grasped his forearm, directing him down closer to her. "I know you can protect him. Right now though, he needs you in other ways and those are a priority." Hetty released his arm and strolled back into the kitchen. "Mr. Callen, you're looking better this morning."

He glanced at her sideways.

"I checked in on you when you first arrived."

"When Sam had me stupefied?"

"Yes," she said. "I'll see you again sometime soon." She opened the garage door and left.

"Okay, I want to know what that was about?" G asked.

Sam stood at the kitchen sink, hands braced on either side of it, staring into the backyard. "Damn it." He whispered. "Let's talk in the family room."

G glanced at him sideways.

"Trust me." He helped his lover to stand and walk the few steps to the family room. Sam eased him down onto the couch and sat beside him, leaning up against the armrest.

"What did Hetty mean by calling before she comes over?" G asked, lying between Sam's parted legs. "This is her house."

"Not right now."

G shot straight up on the sofa. It was too fast. Dizziness overcame him. G laid back against his lover, turning to his right side and gazing up into this eyes.

"You okay?"

"I keep forgetting I'm not 100%."

Sam stroked his lover's back and shoulders. "I don't know any other way to say this." He sighed. "The unsub… damn it, you've got too much on your shoulders."

"One big heavy hand which demonstrates someone's love for me." G sniggered.

"Smart-ass."

"I thought so too."

"Your humor is definitely returning and you're gonna need it."

"I'm ready."

"I've been dispossessed."

"Okay, what's with the fancy words, man, simply put?"

"This is my home now."

"What?" G tried to sit up. After two tries, he gave up. Food had become a necessity now. His energy was zapped without it. "What happened to your house?"

"The unsub torched it."

G's jaw dropped. "This is my fault!"

"No."

"If I never went to see him and—"

"Stop it, sweetheart, this man is bent on destruction," Sam said. "Nothing's gonna stop him until he's caught."

"I don't know if you can catch him."

"Why do you say that?"

"Damn, I don't know if I can talk about this," G said, releasing a long sigh. "Is that also why Hetty was here?"

"What do you mean?"

"She needs intel from me."

"Yeah, but I told her not count on it until this afternoon."

G inched up closer to Sam. "Hold me close." He trembled. "He's NCIS," he whispered, barely audible.

Sam's jaw dropped open. "Did you say NCIS?"

"Yeah, damn it, sorry, he told me while he… crap… while he did you know what… I can't talk about it." Tears flooded his eyes. "Told me that's how he found me." G started crying, the tears flowing freely down his cheeks.

Sam lifted his lover's chin and brushed away the tears. He tenderly kissed his lover's mouth. "No way you could've known that, no way."

"Stole those weapons from a top secret military base."

Sam took out his next burn phone from his bathrobe pocket. "Hetty needs to know about this ASAP, okay?"

G buried his face in lover's chest. "I guess that's why I told you."

He switched the phone to his right hand and stroked his lover's back and shoulder's with the other. Eric reprogrammed all the burn phones to autodial Hetty upon activating the cell phone.

"Mr. Hanna."

"I've got some bad news for your intel," he said. "Our unsub is a NCIS agent."

"Like his father was," G said.

"Let me speak to Mr. Callen."

"He's a little shaky about this."

"I understand and he knows about both situations."

"No, only one."

"I see."

"Here he is." Sam handed G the phone.

"I can't, man, can't do this."

"Mr. Callen, a few questions if you will," Hetty said.

G brought the phone up to his ear. "I told Sam all I can talk about."

"Tell me," she said, her voice tender and soft. "This is my fault for placing you in that home. I thought, it doesn't matter any more what I thought. I can't change what happened to you. I wish I could erase it all. You didn't deserve this and you didn't deserve that."

"Hetty, I… he's NCIS just as his father was." He shuddered, remembering the horrors the unsub's father perpetrated on him. The things he was forced to watch. "I'm not ready to talk about what happened in that house." More tears filled his eyes. The crying had started again and this time it broke through all his defenses.

Sam took the phone from his lover. "I'm sorry Hetty." He stroked G's back and shoulders. "He's not able to talk about this yet. G told me the unsub stole the weapons from a top secret military base."

"If he could tell me this one thing, his first name, I'll be finished for now."

"Did you hear her?"

He nodded. "Bill, William."

"Thank you, Mr. Callen, thank him for me, Mr. Hanna," Hetty said. "I'll call you later to find out how he's doing." She disconnected.

Sam opened the back of the phone, pulled out the GPS card and crushed it. He tossed the phone on the floor and wrapped both arms around G's shoulders, rocking him. "I'm sorry, sweetheart."

G sniffled back the tears. "What else did she come here to talk about?"

"Damn, you're the most perceptive man I know and right now that sucks."

"Because you don't want to tell me."

"I think it's too much for you to—"

"Give it to me all at once."

Sam kissed the top of his lover's head. "The unsub destroyed all evidence which points to—"

"His abuse of me?"

"Yeah, man, he torched your house too." Sam heard his lover's sobbing increase. He rocked him and stroked his back and shoulders. "I'm so sorry." He kissed his head again.

"Hold me tighter."

Sam tightened his hold, drawing G closer into his chest.

"I need you to make love to me, this time for real."

"I think—"

"Don't do this, man, I need to feel closer to you."

"I was gonna say I think I'd love to do that for you."

"Oh… thank you."

"Food first?"

"Something light."

"I'll carry you upstairs, get you settled into bed, and fix us something light to eat."

"Kiss me."

Sam lifted his lover's chin and planted a soft kiss on his lips.

"Make love to me here."

"You sure?"

"I need you now before I completely lose it and fall apart." G wrapped his right hand around his lover's neck and drew him down for a passionate kiss. "I need you."

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><p><strong>Thank you for reading my story.<strong>


	13. Trespass, CH 12

**Thank you for the reviews.**

* * *

><p><strong>Title: Fractures<strong>

**Rating: M**

**Slash Warning: **G/Sam

** Story Details and Full Disclaimer on Prologue Page: **_My stories are a work of __**my**__ imagination and I do not ascribe them to the official story canon__. _This is a work intended for entertainment _outside the official storyline_ owned by CBS and the producers of NCIS:LA.

* * *

><p><strong>Reviews appreciated and welcomed<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Trepass<strong>

**Chapter 12**

G came swimming up from a terrifying nightmare, flailing his arms and kicking.

"Easy, sweetheart," Sam said, keeping his tight hold on his lover's body.

"No!" He startled awake, his eyes widening. G scanned the room for intruders. Nothing looked familiar. "Sam!"

"I'm holding you in my arms," he said. "We're in the family room."

G sighed and relaxed back into his partner's arms. "I forgot."

"No problem."

"Yeah there's a problem," he said, "I did it again, asking you to make love to me and freaking out on you."

"Well, yeah, there is a problem with that."

"Got any painkillers on you?"

"Always, sweetheart, carry them in my pocket." Sam slipped his hand down to the carpet where his bathrobe had fallen during their attempts at lovemaking. He found the prescription bottle, poured out four pills into hand, and offered them up to his lover.

G popped them under his tongue. "I think I need to cut back on these next time."

"If you need them it's okay."

"Don't want to get addicted."

"You won't if your body needs them."

G raised his head and gazed into his lover's eyes. "I'm self-medicating."

"For what?" Sam stroked his back as G lay on his stomach.

"This horrific memory of what he did to me."

"The one which awakens you from a deep sleep."

"Yeah, damn it, like what just happened."

"Give me one before it's dissolved."

G spit out one partially dissolved pill and handed it over to his lover. "Glad I told you."

"Me too." He tossed the pill on the coffee table with the dishes from their light breakfast. "When you're ready to disclose the memory I'm here."

"I'm ready… damn it… but I'm scared to tell you."

"Nothing you could possibly share would change how I feel about you," Sam said, kissing his lover's forehead.

"Are you sure?" G asked, testing the waters again.

Sam caressed his lover's face. "Yeah, nothing, I love you."

He leaned into his partner's touch, enjoying the feel of his fingers touching his face. "Feels good." G sighed. "Remember you trying to cuddle with me in bed and I freaked out on you numerous times."

"Yeah, how can I forget," he said. "Not to mention every time we try to make love."

"Don't remind me." He gazed into his lover's eyes, needing reassurance.

"I love you no matter what."

G reached out and touched his lover's cheek with his left hand. "Don't stop touching me."

"I won't, sweetheart."

"He… raped me… damn it…" G squeezed his eyes shut and shuddered. "The feel of his muscles against my back and body… crap… and yours… crap… triggers me."

"I'm sorry he violated you like that." Sam kissed his lover's forehead again. He placed a single finger under his partner's chin and lifted it until their eyes would meet. "Open your beautiful blues, sweetheart."

G opened his eyes and gazed into his partner's dark brown eyes. "I don't know if I'll ever get over that feeling of his muscular body against mine and his peculiar smell."

"Peculiar?"

"Yeah, a combination of licorice and leather, just like his father."

"That is a peculiar combination of odors," Sam said.

"The odd thing is I've always been attracted to both odors and didn't understand why."

"The subconscious seeking what's familiar in order to reveal to you a truth."

"New age mumbo-jumbo?" G asked.

"No, something Nate told me one time," he said, remembering the time he was buried alive.

"Kind of like your muscles triggering a memory and me wanting you close."

"Just like that."

"Can we make love again?"

Sam sighed. "I think you need to wait until you recover from more memories."

"Oh, I plan to wait, I just meant, will you make love to me again?"

"Yeah, I'd love to when you're ready," he said. "You were brave to share this memory." Sam stroked his partner's face and his shoulders. "Would you be interested in a massage?"

"I don't know if I can handle you ogling my body."

"This proves to me that you need to wait for us to make love again."

G sighed. "You're right."

"I want to rub some healing lotion into your cuts and scraps," Sam said. "Will you let me do that?"

He shuddered and cringed. "Scares the crap out of me."

"Why, sweetheart?"

"I've still got a problem with the way I look and it triggers off what he did."

"Ah, makes sense, I'll go slow, exposing one area at a time."

"And keeping me covered with a blanket?"

"Yeah, a soft, comforting blanket."

"Okay, I'll try it."

"Let me get these dishes into the dishwasher."

"Sam, maybe Deeks could get evidence off the sheets and blanket you took off my body."

"Now you're talking like a NCIS undercover agent," Sam said. "I'll need to bag them."

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><p><strong># # #<strong>

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><p>Sam covered his lover's body with a super soft blanket, leaving his lower legs and feet exposed. "Your head comfortable?"<p>

"Everything's perfect, well, except my nerves."

"Take in a slow, deep breath with me." Sam breathed in a slow breath and released it with a loud sigh. "Again, G, slow with a loud, long sigh. Excellent. One more time, releasing it with a soft sigh. Great." Sam kneeled at the foot of the bed, drizzled some special lotion on his hands, and grasped his lover's left foot. He gently massaged the warming liquid into his partner's entire foot. "How's that feel?"

"Exquisite."

"Remember to tell me if any feelings or memories arise."

"The only thing arising is my stiff member."

"Smart-ass."

"Well, it is, man, must be an erotic zone for me." G chuckled to himself.

"That there tells me you're relaxed."

"Which the stiff member or the laugh?"

"Both." He switched feet, rubbing the lotion into his lover's right foot and paying special attention to the toes. When Sam finished with the foot area, he moved up to the ankles and calves.

The moment his partner touched his right ankle, G jerked his foot away. "Stop, damn it, stop." He panted and squeezed his eyes shut, curling into a tight fetal position on his right side.

Sam laid down facing his partner. "Easy, man."

"I can't, I'm sorry."

"You're doing fine," he said. "You told me when you got triggered."

G opened his eyes and gazed into his partner's. "I caused it, damn it."

"What?"

"I… oh hell, I can't talk about this."

"When you're ready to talk I'm here for you," Sam said. "For now, we're finished."

"No, keep going, I'm enjoying the massage."

"Not a good idea."

G sighed. "You're right and I hate the truth." He relaxed his body and snuggled closer to his partner. "Promise you won't judge me."

"Why would I—"

"Just promise me."

"I promise."

"I didn't fight him," G said. "I let him put the duct tape on my wrists and ankles."

"Didn't you say he dragged you out of the house and easily lifted you over his shoulder?"

"Yeah."

"Then I'd say you were smart not to fight him," Sam said. "You sensed he could kill you if you provoked him."

G pulled away from his partner and rolled onto his back. "I'm done with this discussion."

"Something got triggered."

"Yeah, I can't talk about this." He pulled the blanket past his chin.

Sam slid off the bed and put away the lotion and washed his hands. "I need to get that evidence downstairs for Deeks," he said. "Take a nap."

"And you'll come back upstairs and take a nap with me later."

"Yep." He tucked the blanket around his lover.

G reached out his hand and grasped his partner's forearm. "What if… I can't ever tell you what his father did to me?"

Sam sat on the bed next to him. "When you're ready it will happen."

G rolled back to his right side. "Maybe not."

He laid down next to his partner again. "It will happen, sweetheart, you're not ready."

"I'm ready, but I'm scared, no, terrified to tell you."

"Why?" Sam stroked his lover's face.

G shuddered and cringed, pulling back from his partner. "He told me he'd kill me if I ever said a word to anyone."

"And then you met up with his son and believed as an adult it might be possible."

"Yeah." G sighed. "Made me remember just how tall and powerful my foster father was."

"Makes sense," Sam said. "Remember, sweetheart, you were a powerless little boy—"

"Sam, he made good on one promise," he said. "He broke my arm."

"When you're ready."

"Damn it, I am!"

"Easy, sweetheart."

"Easy it is not." G scooted closer to his partner. "I need you to hold me as you did downstairs on the couch."

"Okay." Sam propped up several pillows behind him against the turquoise blue, padded headboard. He laid against them and opened his legs, waiting for his lover to cuddle up between his parted legs. "Need help?"

"I think I can manage." G crawled on his side toward his lover, resting when he reached his partner's feet. "Damn, didn't think it took this much energy to move up in bed." He crawled further up his lover's legs to his torso, stopping to pant and rest. Determined to create a safe haven for himself, G inched his body upward until he collapsed on his lover's chest and torso. "Cuddle with me."

Sam wrapped his arm around his lover's back, drawing him closer. "We good?"

"Perfect." G sighed. "He killed people," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "Anybody that got in his way."

"He was NCIS?"

"Yeah."

"Needs to be prosecuted."

"Can't be," he said, "he committed suicide. Did it right in front of me. Did it while he blamed me for his misery. After that I started to say, 'I did not do it.' The blood." G cringed and fought back his tears. "His blood was on my hands. I grabbed the handrail on the way up the basement stairs. I bloodied it." He buried his face in the space between Sam's shoulder and face.

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><p><strong>Thanks for reading.<strong>


	14. Terror, CH 13

**Thanks for the reviews everyone!**

* * *

><p><strong>Title: Fractures<strong>

**Rating: M**

**Slash Warning: **G/Sam

** Story Details and Full Disclaimer on Prologue Page: **_My stories are a work of __**my**__ imagination and I do not ascribe them to the official story canon__. _This is a work intended for entertainment _outside the official storyline_ owned by CBS and the producers of NCIS:LA.

* * *

><p><strong>Reviews appreciated and welcomed<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Terror<strong>

**Chapter 13**

For the first time since Sam had rescued him from his home, G awakened without a nightmare. He slept through one whole night without one single nightmare. G rolled over in bed to find Sam gone. After rolling onto his back, he decided it was time to get up and go to the bathroom on his own. He slid his legs over to the left side of the bed. A note in his partner's handwriting lay on the mahogany nightstand. G picked it up and read it twice. He focused on the last sentence reading it three times before laying the note down and sighing deep and long. _'I love you. Love, Sam.' _G grinned wide. He felt the love his partner had for him. It was a first since Sam had rescued him that he allowed himself feel anything beside the tortuous memories. Seven horrible days had passed. Horrible because he had to relive every terrifying moment of his torture and abuse by William. He still refused to utter that man's last name. The name reminded him of his foster father and those memories still haunted him.

G stretched and glanced down at the floor. Just as his partner promised in the note, new slippers lay at his feet. He slipped into them and pushed himself off the bed with both hands. G reached out to the nightstand to steady himself. This was his second day up by himself. Unsteadiness and weakness plagued him. He expected more strength than this. A complete disappointment. At least though, he raised off the bed on his own without Sam in the room to help him if he started to weaken.

He hated the next part, using a walker with wheels. G complained to Sam. He protested to Sam. And Sam insisted he use the walker to steady himself. G reached for the walker, securing himself with both hands before releasing the brake. After all these days convalescing, he still slid his feet on the floor, unable to pick up his weakened legs due to numerous injuries. Halfway to the bathroom he realized he forgot his bathrobe. Damn it. Sam positioned it on the bed's foot for easy reach. G decided to press onward as he had a limited amount of energy. He entered the bathroom and stopped. Afraid of seeing his reflection in the mirror, he focused on the toilet straight ahead of him. G stopped halfway for a breather. He bent down to set the brake and straightened, catching a glimpse of himself. For a few moments, he froze in place, staring at his reflection and refusing to believe it was really him. His eyes traveled down his body from his shoulders to torso to… G shrieked and twisted away from the image in the mirror. The sudden movement of his body caused him to lose his balance. He reached for the walker and instead pulled it off its four wheels, sending himself and the walker to the hard tiled bathroom floor. G shrieked again and urinated on himself. He curled into a fetal position on his left side, writhing in pain.

"G!" Sam rushed into the bathroom and kneeled at his lover's side. "I'm here, sweetheart." He pulled several towels off a rack and covered him. Sam glanced back over his shoulder and saw his lover's bathrobe laying at the foot of the bed. Damn it. Now he felt guilty for leaving him alone. If only…

"Sam, I…"

"I need to get you washed off, sweetheart."

"No!"

"Easy, sweetheart."

"I needed to go to the bathroom."

Sam placed towels on the urine and lifted his partner to his feet. He guided him toward the shower.

"I can't do this."

"You did fine yesterday by yourself." He brought him over to the shower seat.

"You're not staying with me?" His eyes dropped to the tile shower floor.

"I took a shower earlier this morning." By the mien on his lover's face, Sam needed to help him in the shower. He stepped outside and stripped off his clothes. After he entered the shower again, Sam adjusted the water and settled next to his lover on the teak shower bench. He drew G back against his body. "I'm sorry, sweetheart." He kissed the top of his head. Sam pumped soap into his hands and began washing his lover. "Is this what you want and need?"

"Yeah," G said, sighing and relaxing backward into his lover's chest. "Sorry about you needing to take a shower twice."

"I can see you need this."

"Deeks get the evidence?"

"Yep, he'll come over later on and let us know if any hair or other signs were left behind," Sam said. "Plus I need some more preprogrammed burn phones."

"What?"

"The phones are preprogrammed by Eric to autodial Hetty in case of an emergency." He pumped more soap into his hands. "Lean forward unless you wish to turn around."

"Can't handle it, sorry." G leaned forward bracing himself again the wall in front of him.

"You want to tell what happened in here."

"I was hoping you wouldn't ask."

"You have the option to tell me no."

"Yeah, but I promised myself I'd share memories with you no matter how painful they were."

"Since when?"

"Since I noticed how much better I felt when opened up to you," G said, sighing. "That feels great."

Sam massaged the soap into his lover's shoulders, neck, and back.

"It makes me relax."

"Good." He wrapped his right arm around G's waist and drew him backward into this chest. "Damn… I love you so much." Sam kissed the side of his lover's neck. "Wish you were ready to make love. I can wait but… damn, I just want to…"

"Want to what?"

"Take you in my arms and make love to you, gentle and passionate love to you."

"Isn't this making love?"

"Yep, in one way."

G took in a deep breath and releasing it with a loud sigh. "I tried to tell him why his father sent him away," he said, pushing back against his lover. "I need your arms around me, tight."

Sam surrounded G's waist with both arms.

G rinsed himself off with the handheld shower wand and turned off the water. "It enraged him and he went ballistic, dragging me into the shower," he said. "He forgot about my cast and it got wet before he shut off the water. After that he slammed me against the shower wall and punched me. He wrapped my arm in plastic and pushed me back under the shower to bring me to full consciousness." G placed his arms around Sam's and tightened his hold.

"Did you urinate on yourself in the shower?"

"What?" G glanced over his shoulder with a confused mien on his face.

"You urinated on yourself on the bathroom floor."

"Here?" He turned to face his lover. "I didn't, you're lying."

"Sweetheart, I have no reason to lie to you."

"Shit." G covered his mouth with a hand.

"Why do think I wanted you to take a shower?"

"Damn it, just hold me." G buried his face in Sam's chest, tears flowing freely down his face.

Sam wrapped his arms around his lover's back and rocked him in his arms.

"I must have…" He raised his head and gazed into his lover's eyes. A flashback rippled through his mind. "I remember… I don't know if I can… hate this." G shuddered and cringed, drawing closer to his lover. "Before… it was before he pushed me into the shower. I tried to convince him and he escalated his abuse."

"How?"

"He used a knife on me, cutting my body, little cuts, crisscrossing them all over my body," he said. "It terrified me. I don't know why it did, but man it did."

"Little cuts hurt a lot more than a larger slice."

G raised his head. "What?"

"Think about what it feels like when you receive a paper cut."

"Yeah, you're right," he said, "I remember when a suspect sliced my arm with a knife. It hurt but not like these smaller ones. He'd kick me over onto my back and cut up my stomach. Next, he'd kick me over onto one side, cut me up and repeat on the other side. He kept up his rage-filled assault until I writhed and shrieked. When he stopped I urinated on myself. He dragged me into the shower to rinse me off where he further escalated his attack." G shuddered again. "The worst was after he took me from the shower. He needed to get the wet part of the cast off my hand. After dragging me naked out in the backyard, he took me into the garage and used a Sawsall to cut through the wet cast. I freaked out again, shrieking and writhing after he finished. I must have urinated on myself again. Damn, I just don't know."

"He took you into the shower again?"

"Yeah and… damn… raped me." G pulled away and scooted backward on the teak shower bench.

"Easy, sweetheart, let me hold you." Sam opened his arms. "Come on."

"Can't."

"Let's get out of the shower and I'll lie with you on the bed."

"Okay, I think I can handle that," G said, standing up and steadying himself with the shower wall.

"Take my hand."

"Need more than that."

Sam wrapped his arm around his lover's waist and together they walked out of the shower.

"Cover my view."

Sam kept G to his left as they strode toward the bedroom. Before they left the bathroom, he grabbed several towels. "Let's sit in the rocker."

"What?"

"You can sit on my lap."

"I'm not a baby, damn it."

"Didn't say you were." Sam laid a towel on the rocker and sat down. He handed another towel to his lover.

G wrapped it around his waist and positioned himself on his lover's lap. He rested his head on Sam's chest and sighed. "I actually like this."

"Me too." He wrapped his arms around G's body, drawing his lover closer into him. "We good?"

"Better than good, great," G said, "I can't believe how much I need this." It was the first time in his life G had admitted to anyone how much he needed to be held as if he were a small child.

* * *

><p><strong>Thank you for reading.<strong>

* * *

><p><strong><strong>AN: I decided to alter the last two chapters so the important information could be read. Instead of two chapters, there are now four. Same words now separated out more.****

**The major squick is in chapter 15 now.**


	15. Discovery, CH 14

**Thank you for the reviews.**

* * *

><p><strong>Title: Fractures<strong>

**Rating: M**

**Daffynition: Coup de Grâce: **A final blow or shot given to kill a wounded person or animal.

**Slash Warning: **G/Sam

** Story Details and Full Disclaimer on Prologue Page: **_My stories are a work of __**my**__ imagination and I do not ascribe them to the official story canon__. _This is a work intended for entertainment _outside the official storyline_ owned by CBS and the producers of NCIS:LA.

* * *

><p><strong>Reviews appreciated and welcomed<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Discovery<strong>

**Chapter 14**

Another week passed before G was able to stand and walk without the aid of the walker. Still in a weakened state, he picked up his feet to move forward yet found himself slightly unsteady at times. He decided to get dressed in his regular clothes and searched the closet for them. Nothing. Anger boiled within him. He needed to get out of this house and especially the bedroom. One more day with that huge mirror in the bathroom, G feared he would lose it. Yet it was something he failed to share with his partner and lover. The last thing he wanted right now was judgment or questions from Sam.

G trudged down the stairs and into the kitchen in his slippers.

"Sweetheart, did you know your stark ass naked?"

He sighed. "Yep."

"And?"

"I need some real clothes."

"I was just about to bring some up to the room."

"Right." G crossed his arms.

"You angry with me?"

"No, I'm going stir crazy in this house, specifically that room."

"Good, Hetty requested the pleasure of your presence at headquarters."

"Did she now?" He sighed.

"Well, not exactly, I pressed upon her the need for you to have a change in scenery."

"Thank you."

"Hug," Sam said, opening his arms to invite him into his body.

Instead, G turned and headed back up the stairs. When he reached the bedroom he sat in rocker and waited for his partner's arrival with his clothes.

"What's with the attitude?"

"I'm not copping an attitude, damn it, I'm just not enjoying this inactivity," he said. "You know I'm not the kind of person who can sit around for days on end doing nothing."

Sam handed him the clothes.

"New clothes?"

"Everything was destroyed, remember?"

"I kind of remember you telling about my house." G stood and dressed in silky black boxers, blue jeans, and a long sleeve, ultramarine blue t-shirt. "This shirt is huge on me."

"Nothing in your size is gonna fit over that cast."

"I forgot." He sat down again and donned his midnight blue socks and black work boots. "Glad you didn't get me sport shoes." After he finished dressing, G stood and smoothed his oversized t-shirt over his jeans.

Sam came behind his lover and drew him back into his body. "You seem a little edgy today," he whispered into his left ear.

"Sorry, I can't stand being in this house any more."

"What's there not to like?"

"You know and I'm not gonna talk about it any more." G jerked away from his lover.

"Easy, sweetheart, you're more uptight than usual about this."

G checked his clothes again and strode toward the door.

"Come on, you gonna leave it like this?"

He stopped and waited for his lover to come up behind him again. "Please, I just can't talk about it, okay?"

"Okay." Sam drew his lover backward into him and kissed his neck. "When you're ready to talk let me know, I'm available."

"I know, thanks, and I appreciate that… Sorry, I'm crabby." He leaned into his lover.

"Interested in breakfast?"

"Yeah, I need something besides some pills and water," he said, dead pan.

"You're a funny guy."

"I hope so," G said, sniggering.

"Aw, there's the man I love so much."

They took the stairs together down to the first floor.

"Mind if I watch some television in the family room while you fix breakfast?" G asked.

"That's a first for you, no problem."

He settled down on the couch and turned the television on low. G had no intention of watching it. Instead, he grabbed his iPad2 off the coffee table and searched the internet for some answers to a couple of questions he had. With his hyper-focused search for answers, a sound coming from the kitchen made G startle. Sam strode into the family room with their breakfast. G shut off the internet access, forgetting to clear his history. Damn.

"Find something interesting to read?" He handed his partner a plate of scrambled eggs and bacon.

"Bacon?"

"Yeah, I know you love it."

"Thanks." He picked up a piece and stuffed all of it into his mouth.

"Guess you are hungry." Sam grinned as he watched his partner scarf up the food faster than he had spooned it onto the plate. "Healthy appetite this morning."

G made a face at his partner and grabbed a glass of milk off the coffee table. He chugged it down in less than a minute.

"Want seconds?"

G set his empty plate and glass on the coffee table. "No, thanks for the offer."

"I've never seen you eat that fast."

"Hungry."

"I guess."

"Donuts later?" G settled back and picked up his iPad2 again.

Sam roared with laughter.

"What's so funny?"

"You, sweetheart," he said. "You just ate four eggs and four slices of bacon and you're asking for dessert."

"I guess I'm feeling better today."

"I guess so." Sam rested against an armrest and watched his partner peruse the internet. "First time back on a computer and you're addicted."

"No, just curious about something." He rubbed his chest where the t-shirt caught up on some scar tissue.

"Pain?"

"No, it itches."

"Got you the softest t-shirt I could find online."

"Still itches." He slipped a hand under his shirt and absentmindedly rubbed the spot while he researched the website which had caught his eye.

"Let me take a look." Sam set his plate on the coffee table.

G pulled away and scooted closer to the opposite end of the couch.

"Man, you are super touchy this morning."

"Cut it out already I've had enough." He sighed extra loud to emphasize his point.

Sam picked up his plate again and finished eating, keeping an eye on his partner. "Hetty wondered if you knew where William might hide out."

"Yeah?" G glanced up from reading the website and stopped rubbing his chest.

"She told me you should come prepared to do some research or provide her and Director Vance with the intel."

"Director Vance?" He asked. "I didn't know he was still here."

"Yeah, until the unsub is caught and placed in a secure location."

He sighed. "Just great."

Sam stood and cleared their plates. "Need a jacket?"

"Something lightweight."

"Your choice on the back of the sofa in the living room," he said, taking the plates to the kitchen.

G stood up, still reading the website and rubbing his chest. He glanced up for a moment to make sure he kept clear of any furniture until he entered the living room. After closing the case on his iPad2, he sorted through the jackets until he found the right weight and style. He stroked his hand across the supple, chocolate brown leather jacket. Tears welled up in his eyes. His skin used to feel this soft. Damn it. G shut down the unpleasant feelings and dressed in the jacket. The left sleeve slipped over his cast just fine. Another hurdle overcome. He grabbed his iPad2, opened it again, and returned to reading the website.

* * *

><p><strong># # #<strong>

* * *

><p>Sam parked the Challenger in front of NCIS Headquarters. He unbuckled his seatbelt and grasped his partner's hand as he started unbuckle his own. "You know you can tell me anything."<p>

G pulled his hand away and finished releasing his seatbelt. "I know, you keep telling me that." He opened the car door and climbed out.

Sam climbed out of the car and stared across the Challenger's roof top at his partner.

"What are looking at?" G slammed the car door and strode toward the entrance.

Sam came along side his partner, matching him stride for stride. He pushed him against the door before G had a chance to open it. "Something is not right with you today," he said. "You need to talk about this."

"I'll talk about it when I'm damn well ready!" G huffed out his sudden irritation.

Sam released him. "Okay." He flipped his partner around and brought him into a hug. "I sure wish you'd be forthcoming."

"Can't." He sighed, pulling backward and opening the door to headquarters.

Sam followed his partner inside. When he reached the bullpen, he eyed Hetty.

"Mr. Hanna, a word with you please."

"I know when I'm not wanted," G said, sitting down in his assigned spot in the bullpen.

Sam crossed the open space connecting the bullpen with Hetty's office. "Got a problem with G," he said, lowering his voice.

"What kind of problem?" She asked, keeping his voice softer than usual.

"He's on edge and I know something is off."

"You need to keep Mr. Callen under a tight rein especially with a history of several unauthorized excursions."

Sam sighed. "Yes, Hetty, I know, I'll keep my eyes on him."

"Anything else?"

"No intel as of yet."

"You told him what Director Vance and I need to know."

"Yes, and he only acknowledged that he heard me."

"He's definitely preoccupied," Hetty said. "If there's nothing else to report, please send him over to me."

"Oh, he's not gonna like that, but… okay." Sam flipped on his heels and left. He reached the bullpen and stood in front of his partner's desk.

G glanced up from his open laptop computer.

"Hetty wants to see you next."

"Private conversations now?"

"Come on, G, it's your first day back after three weeks," Sam said. "I suggest you don't push it with her."

He sighed, slamming the lid on his laptop which shoved it across his desk. G stood and trudged across the wood floor to his supervisor's desk.

* * *

><p><strong># # #<strong>

* * *

><p>Hetty gazed up into her agent's eyes. "Have a seat, Mr. Callen."<p>

"No, sorry, I sit too much these days," G said. "Besides it's not easy to get up and down from chairs." He crossed his arms.

"I can understand that," she said. "For now, Sam is the team leader and you are to remain under his watchful eye."

"What the hell!" He raised his voice louder than he had intended to do. G turned around, making sure he had not disturbed anyone. "Isn't this my ops?" He asked, lowering his voice to a more acceptable level.

"Yes, it is, Mr. Callen, and you're in no condition to lead your team."

"This sucks, it sucks bad."

"I'll reinstate you when you're feeling better," she said. "It's your first day back at work. Let's see how you're fairing and then—"

"Damn it, Hetty, this is _my_ team—"

"Unless you wish for me to sideline you all together, I suggest you accept my terms." Hetty removed a box from a cabinet and set it on her desk. "You'll need these items." She opened the lid.

G's jaw dropped. "How did my stuff get into your possession?"

"Your partner thought it was best if I held onto them until you got back on your feet."

Damn it. Piqued by his partner's sneaky move to take control of his property, G swore under his breath. He huffed again disgusted by the circumstances. He stepped forward and grabbed his belongings from the black, leather bound box. His waist holster, SIG-Sauer P229 that he lost at his foster house, his ID, and his cell phone. "Hetty… I'm sorry about my attitude, I'm just—"

"No need to apologize."

"It's just that I thought I'd be returning to full status."

"I don't think you are ready," Hetty said. "I brought you back early on your partner's insistence that you needed to get away from the house."

"I did, I do, he's right." He sighed.

"Please talk to your partner about what is bothering you, Mr. Callen."

"I'm not ready."

"I understand, believe me I do, and you need to confide in someone."

"I promise I will when I'm ready," he said, stepping backward from her desk.

"Take it easy the rest of the day, Mr. Callen."

"I'll try, Hetty," G said, flipping on his heels and leaving her office.

* * *

><p><strong># # #<strong>

* * *

><p>Sam, G, Kensi, and Deeks gathered in the OPS Center.<p>

G moved toward the high definition video screen. "Can you run that again, Eric?"

"Sure."

"Wait, stop, advance three frames, stop." He stared at the picture of his former foster home.

Sam came along side his partner. "What do you see?"

"I thought something looked familiar from when I was a child," G said. "I was mistaken."

"Mistaken?"

"Yeah, it happens."

"It happens when you ask Eric to advance the video precisely three frames forward?" Sam asked, crossing his arms and changing his weight from one foot to the other.

"I lived there a long time ago."

"Yeah, and I'm beginning to believe it was only in your head."

"What's that supposed to mean?" G stomped out of the room in a fit of pique.

"What just happened?" Deeks asked.

"He's a little off today."

"I'll say," Kensi said.

"I need to go find him," Sam said, exiting the OPS Center. He rushed down the stairs and into the bullpen. When he failed to find his partner there, Sam searched the bathrooms. Damn it. He hurried back into main area and over to Hetty's desk.

"Problem?" Hetty asked, glancing up from her laptop computer.

"Can't find G anywhere," he said, attempting to calm his breathing. "Did you see him?"

"I saw him enter the bullpen just before you did."

"And from there?"

"I assumed he went back upstairs."

"Damn it." Sam flipped on his heels and sprinted to the exit doors. He pushed them open and stared at the empty spot where his Challenger had been parked. "Oh hell!" He half turned and glanced back in his supervisor's direction, shaking his head.

Hetty hurried over to him. "He took your car again?"

"Yeah, now I'm worried," he said, "his nose has been buried in his iPad2 and laptop computer all morning."

"You think he's following a lead?"

"Not in his state of mind," Sam said. "I think something else is going on, but I can't put my finger on it."

"Let's figure out what he was researching," Hetty said, entering the bullpen and disconnecting her agent's laptop computer. She handed it over to Mr. Hanna. "Find him, please find him." Her eyes welled up with tears.

Sam climbed the stairs two at a time, huffing and puffing when he reached the second floor. He brought his partner's laptop over to Eric. "I need a full analysis on G's research on the internet."

"You've got to be kidding," Eric said.

"He's the epitome of an undercover agent when it comes to research on the internet," Nell said.

"Yeah, good luck with that." Eric opened Callen's laptop and his jaw dropped open. "This is a first."

"What?" Sam came up behind him, leaning over his left shoulder.

"Callen failed to clear any of his searches."

"He wants us to follow him," Sam said, having an epiphany. "Put it up on the screen. Let's see what he was researching. Can you access his personal iPad?"

"Well, yeah, but one thing at a—"

"I'm on it," Nell said, winking at Eric.

Eric connected Callen's laptop computer into the mainframe and displayed his pages on the video screen before them. He searched through the bookmarks Callen had made. All addresses.

Sam moved closer to the screen, along with Kensi and Deeks.

Deeks moved in closer. "Look at this," he said. "Can we see more of this particular bookmark, Eric?" He pointed to one specific address. "Maybe pair it with William's last name."

"Great idea, Deeks," Sam said, patting him on the back.

When the information appeared on the screen, all their jaws dropped.

"I found this in addition," Eric said, placing several newspaper articles beside the first jaw dropping information.

"He knows where William lives," Sam said. "Inform Hetty ASAP and Director Vance."

Kensi strode over to one of the newspaper articles. "I think someone's being holding out on us."

"Maybe he just discovered this intel," Sam said. "He's acted strange ever since last night. Come to think of it, last night was the first time I saw him using his iPad. After that he asked if he could get out of the house. Damn it."

"Got to hand it to Callen," Kensi said, "he's still the top undercover agent in this elite unit."

"You're right, Kensi." Sam sighed.

"I promise we'll find him."

"And my Challenger."

"Again," Deeks said, "really?"

"Yeah." Sam hoped they found both in one piece. Another few weeks of a convalescing G was not his idea of a healthy outcome for either his partner or him.

* * *

><p><strong>Thank you for reading.<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I decided to place a warning before the next chapter here for those of you who cannot handle a major squick.**

**Chapter 15 is most likely one of the darkest chapters I have ever written.**

**Be forewarned.**

**Forewarned is forearmed.**


	16. Coup de Grâce, CH 15

**A/N: I now separated out the ultra squicky part into this chapter. The rest of the information from the chapter was too important leave out. This makes for two added chapters. **

**This is most likely one of the darkest chapters I have ever written. Be forewarned. Forewarned is forearmed.**

* * *

><p><strong>Title: Fractures<strong>

**Rating: M**

**Slash Warning: **G/Sam

** Story Details and Full Disclaimer on Prologue Page: **_My stories are a work of __**my**__ imagination and I do not ascribe them to the official story canon__. _This is a work intended for entertainment _outside the official storyline_ owned by CBS and the producers of NCIS:LA.

* * *

><p><strong>Reviews appreciated and welcomed<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Coup de Grâce<strong>

**Chapter 15**

G pulled up outside the address he found on the internet. The house was familiar even though he had only seen it once. The memory of that day came flooding back to him the night before. He vowed to find the house associated with that memory. William and his mother moved here years ago to escape a father and a husband who was acting out bizarre behaviors. William had started to mimic his father's behaviors. G remembered the volatile argument between his foster father and mother. Each escalated their point of view until they were screaming at each other and his foster father was throwing sharp objects, specifically, the knives he used for killing people. G cowered in a corner of the hallway, frozen in fear as he watched and listened to his foster parents' heated and violent confrontation. He came back to the present moment, staring out the side window of the Challenger. After releasing a long sigh, G climbed out of the car and trudged toward his destiny.

Before he knocked on the front door, it opened and a huge hand grabbed his leather jacket, dragging him into the house. Once inside, G's eyes slowly adjusted to the dimly lit foyer.

Billy. William Lindtstrøm.

He found his foster father's son again.

The brawny man shoved G face first against a wall in the foyer. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Looking for you."

"Stupid little man."

"I'm not—"

William slugged G in the left kidney. "Do not tell me what you are not!"

"I came to tell you about your parents and why your father sent you away."

"He sent me away because you happened." He pressed his body hard into his prisoner. "You are mine again to torture however I want."

"Okay." G shuddered and panted.

"Just like that," William said, "must be some catch. Trying to entrap me illegally."

"No, I assure you that isn't why I came here."

"Yeah, right." He released his prisoner and grabbed both his arms, pulling them hard behind his back. "You came here because you want me to torture you?"

"Whatever." It was one thing to admit to himself, he welcomed William's torture. But to tell his captor he craved it was something he chose to not disclose.

"Move." William pushed G toward his garage.

"You don't want to know the truth?" G asked, trying to glance over his shoulder.

"Do not even look at me, asshole!"

"I tried to tell you before and you didn't give a crap about the truth."

"Does not matter to me." William brought G over to a workbench and shoved him over it. "Do not move." He grabbed a roll of duct tape off the workbench.

G raised his head. "Can we skip the duct tape this time?"

"Fuck no, I love to watch you squirm when I rip it off your hairy arms." William grinned wide with a devilish expression.

G cringed and shivered, seeing the familiar yet terrifying mien. William's father had grinned in the same way when he was about to torture or kill someone.

He flipped his prisoner around, facing him. "Put your hands out in front of you, inner wrists together."

G obeyed him. He came here for this after all. He wanted whatever this giant of a man chose to dish out. G not only wanted it, he craved it.

William tightly wrapped the extra strong, black duct tape around G's wrists, making sure he covered up his right forearm too. It excited him to see the hair on his captive's arm covered with duct tape. "Let me try a test run."

"Let's not."

"You are all mine and I will decide when and what I do to you." He grabbed an end of the tape and ripped it off his prisoner's arm.

G howled and writhed, panting to stop himself from passing out. Hair and skin was skinned off his forearm.

"Yeah, now you react as I predicted," William said. "Your once high pain threshold has decreased to almost zero. Perfect. I did that to you through a method I developed. Let us take a ride. I see you brought your partner's fancy car."

G saw a glint of light against something made of stainless steel. When it came into full view, he recognized the knife in his captor's hand as the one William had used on him. A flashback free floated into his mind. G jerked away from his captor.

"No, stop," William said, sliding the sharp knife under G's shirt and cutting the fabric up to his neck.

"You don't need to go this far with me."

"You mean because you came here and you are _willing_ to be my guinea pig this time?"

"Yeah."

"I call the shots," William said, stopping to carve his name into G's cast. "Billy, yes, that is what he used to call me until you came along."

"He sent you away because you were—"

He pressed the knife tip into G's left side. "I do not want to know, bastard, now shut the fuck up."

"It might change your life." He heard the knife cut through his leather jacket.

"You are so stupid, nothing is going to change my life," William said. "I, like my father, am a serial killer."

"You killed someone too?"

"No, give me a chance," he said. "Now move it." William pressed the knife further into his prisoner's side.

G winced and trudged toward the driveway out through the garage door. "Where's your mother?"

"You really want to feel pain." He kept the knife hidden from any curious neighbors. "Get in the driver's seat." William removed the knife and helped his prisoner into the driver's seat of the Challenger. Afterward, he climbed into the passenger side. "Drive."

"Difficult with my hands like this." G pushed them toward his captor.

William slit the duct tape with the knife. "Remove your jacket and shirt."

"What?"

He shoved the knife into G's right side just above his kidney. "Any lower and I could do some damage."

"I don't care."

"You are lying."

"Try me."

William dug the knife through G's leather jacket. "Okay, you are not playing me," he said. "Hands on the steering wheel." William sheared the side of his captive's leather jacket, ripping the tough material right up the side seam. "Just like I did at your house, stripping off your clothes."

That same devilish grin stretched his captor's face. "Go ahead."

"You really do not care, start driving."

G started the Challenger's engine. "I hate to admit it."

"Admit what?"

"I admitted it to myself," he said, "but telling you is another thing all together."

"Turn onto the next street and stop just the other side of those bushes, pulling off the road."

G involuntarily shivered. He followed his captor's instructions.

"Good, turn off the engine, and stay in the car."

At least no blood was spilled yet. Maybe his captor wanted to make him suffer first. He hoped not. G craved a swift and easy end. More misery was the last kind of torture he needed. His tortured mind and body haunted him night and day.

William opened the driver's door. "Get out!" He yelled, pressing the tip of the knife into G's neck.

It was obvious his captor had asked him to do something and he had not heard him. G stumbled out of the Challenger, his legs feeling weaker than when he had awakened earlier this morning. His strength was zapped by the constant state of terror enforced by his captor.

"Faster, behind these bushes, strip."

G gazed up into his torturer and would-be assassin's face.

"What part of that do you not understand?"

"None," he said. "I want you to… kill me, put me out of my misery." _I finally said it. Now I need to insure he follows through. _

"What?" William's jaw dropped.

"Those scars and etched knife marks you left all over my body… I can't live any more with the mental and physical pain from them," G said. "Take away my pain."

"Are you begging me to kill you?"

"Yes."

"A willing victim?"

"Yes." G kneeled on the damp grass and weeds. He started to remove his ripped and torn leather jacket.

"Show me those beautiful scars," William said. "Show me my beautiful handiwork."

He pulled the oversized t-shirt off his arms. It slid down his naked scarred and etched skin.

"You are my first victim." He stood behind G, using the sharp knife edge to examine each cross-hatched mark. "My technique worked. You are suffering as I believed you would. Beautiful artwork on your now pale skin." William dug the tip of his knife into one of the less healed cross-hatched wounds, lifting up the skin edges. The devilish grin spread across his face again. His prisoner writhed. "Yes, searing, tearing, and burning pain. You enjoy it?"

"Yes," G said. "More than that I welcome death, crave it."

"I will accommodate your desire," William said. "But first I crave watching you being tortured. I need to see you bleed. Strip."

G sat on the damp ground and started to remove his shoes.

* * *

><p><strong>Thanks for reading… if you dared.<strong>


	17. Disfigured, CH 16

**Title: Fractures**

**Rating: M**

**Slash Warning: **G/Sam

** Story Details and Full Disclaimer on Prologue Page: **_My stories are a work of __**my**__ imagination and I do not ascribe them to the official story canon__. _This is a work intended for entertainment _outside the official storyline_ owned by CBS and the producers of NCIS:LA.

* * *

><p><strong>Reviews appreciated and welcomed<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Disfigured<strong>

**Chapter 16**

"Stay perfectly still," Sam said, pointing a gun at William's spine. "You move an inch and I'll paralyze you for life. Understood?"

William nodded.

"Deeks take the weapon from him and check for more."

"No!" G shrieked, curling into a tightened fetal position on the damp ground.

"Kens, take over for me." Sam kneeled next to his partner's bleeding body. "G, it's Sam, you're safe." He watched his team take the now handcuffed suspect away and settle him into the backseat of the G's Mercedes.

Kensi rushed over to Sam's side with a midnight blue, polar fleece blanket. "We'll turn our suspect over to Director Vance at the designated location and meet you back at headquarters."

"Tell Hetty I might need to take him to the hospital."

"Got you," Kensi said.

Sam wrapped his partner in the polar fleece blanket and lifted him into his arms. He brought him over to the Challenger and settled his partner into the passenger's seat. Afterward Sam grabbed G's ripped shirt and leather jacket, bringing them back to the car with him. He tossed them into the back seat on the floorboard. Sam sat in the front seat and closed the door. He sighed and stared straight ahead. If he had not heard the words come forth from his partner's mouth, he would not have believed it to be true. G never shared how he felt about those wounds on his body. Tears formed in his dark brown eyes. He started the Challenger and left the northeastern part of the San Fernando Valley, driving back to more familiar territory in the southwestern part.

G raised his head off the seat and glanced around him. "No, I told you no, damn it!"

"Easy, man, lie back." Sam locked the doors and windows.

"Stop the damned car!"

"No."

"You can't hold me like a prisoner in this damned car!"

"Calm down—"

G shrieked and grabbed the door handle, repeatedly lifting it. "Unlock this door." He pounded on the metal part of the door.

"Easy, G, you need to calm—"

"Screw you, I was this close." He drew the covers over his head.

Sam reached over and pulled them down. "How come you didn't tell me?"

"Stop the car."

"Is that your answer to my question?"

"Stop asking me questions."

"No, I'm not letting you do this," Sam said. "I love you."

"Well, I hate me." Tears formed in the inner corners of his eyes. "I hate every square inch of this wretched body." He rolled over and faced the door. "Leave me alone."

"I can't do that."

"Let me die, damn it, drop me off the side of the freeway, and just let me die." G pulled the cover over his head again.

Sam pressed the gas pedal closer to the floorboard. He watched the speedometer reach 80. He no longer cared if a ticket came his way. Sam took out his cell phone and text messaged Hetty about his partner's mental state. He set his phone on the dashboard holder and waited for her message.

Hetty's text message came through the Challenger's onboard computer. _Take care of him, Mr. Hanna. Whatever you need do not hesitate to call me. Hotel is on NCIS._

He glanced over at his blanket covered partner and drove toward the hotel two blocks from the hospital. Just before two in the afternoon he pulled into the hotel's parking lot. Sam left the car running and locked the doors. He hoped the room they had stayed almost a month ago was available.

Five minutes later, Sam strolled out to the Challenger with the same key he had received several weeks ago. He unlocked the car door and climbed inside. At first he panicked not seeing G beside him in the front seat. Sam glanced in the rearview mirror and eyed his partner's blanket covered form lying on the back seat. He sighed. After pulling into his designated parking space at the hotel, Sam unlocked the hotel room and placed a chair in the doorway, keeping it ajar. "Come on, sweetheart," he said, opening the passenger side door and pushing the passenger seat forward.

"Want to stay here," G said, mumbling into the blanket.

"I got our hotel room from several weeks ago."

He raised his head and pulled the polar fleece blanket down off his face. "What?"

"We're at the hotel."

"Not Hetty's place?"

"Nope," Sam said, inching into the backseat and helping his partner into a sitting position. "Come on, sweetheart, I'll carry you if you need it."

"Believe me I need it." G inched forward.

Sam backed out and guided his partner out of the backseat. "Here we go." He lifted G's half naked body into his arms, carrying him into the hotel room. Sam laid him on the bed. "Lie back and close your eyes. I'll take care of the two mirrors." After removing a first aid kit from the trunk, he locked the Challenger. A small linen closet off the bathroom had extra blankets and pillows. Sam brought a pillow and a blanket over to G. He tucked the cozy, soft blanket around his partner's body. Next, he removed two more smaller blankets designed to fit twin beds and covered the two mirrors, one in the bathroom and the second in the living area.

"I need some painkillers," G said, raising his head and glancing around the room.

"Booze or painkillers?"

"That's a hard choice," he said, remembering the relaxed feeling after Sam and him drank several sample bottles of booze. "Get me drunk."

"My pleasure." Sam grabbed several bottles of alcohol from the refrigerator and the full bottle of chilled sherry off the dresser and two glasses. He set the alcohol on his nightstand. For his last move, he placed the 'Do Not Disturb' doorknob hanger on the door handle outside and locked the door. "Which would you care for first? Your choices are Harvey's Bristol Cream, Galliano, or Captain Morgan Rum."

"All of them sound good," G said, rolling over to his right side and gazing into Sam's eyes. "Harvey's Bristol Cream sounds the best though."

"Good choice," Sam said, pouring his partner a full glass of it. "We have a whole bottle."

"What?" His jaw dropped. He accepted the glass from his partner. "How?"

"I requested it when I checked in."

"You knew I'd want to get drunk."

"Yeah, I would if I felt like you do."

G took a long sip of the smooth sherry. He licked his lips. "That's exactly what I need."

"To kill several hundred brain cells," Sam said, pouring himself the same drink. "Cheers." He held up his glass to his partner's clinking their glasses together. "To a drunk stupor and a relaxed state and forgetting all your troubles for one night."

"How romantic." G winked at him.

"Wait until you're drunk and I seduce your sexy body."

"You can leave out the sexy part."

"No, you're sexy, like it or not, I think you're sexy."

"It should be illegal to use that word more than once in a sentence." G winked at him again.

Sam leaned over and planted the most tender kiss on G's alcohol wetted lips. "Tastes better on you." He drew him into his arms, kissing him more passionately. "I want to make love to you like the first time," Sam whispered into his lover's right ear.

"I hope not."

"What?" He pulled away.

"The first time was too painful." G kept a straight face.

"Smart-ass." Sam drew his lover back into him. "Will you allow me to make love to you?"

"Only if I am shit-faced drunk."

"You serious?"

"Yeah, I meant what I said before." G sighed.

"We need to talk then."

"After I'm drunk."

"Okay," Sam sat up and toasted his lover again. "Cheers, to your drunken stupor."

G took a long drink and handed his glass over to Sam. "I want to try the rum next." He laid his head down on the pillow and pulled the blanket past his chin. "Hold me, Sam."

He placed their glasses on the nightstand and returned the sherry to the ice bucket on the dresser. "Naked?"

"Half naked." Sam removed his midnight blue t-shirt and laid down next to his lover. G wrapped his arm around his lover's waist, drawing himself close into Sam's warm body.

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><p><strong>Thank you for reading.<strong>


	18. Assuage, CH 17

**G whump and more…**

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><p><strong>Title: Fractures<strong>

**Rating: M**

**Slash Warning: **G/Sam

** Story Details and Full Disclaimer on Prologue Page: **_My stories are a work of __**my**__ imagination and I do not ascribe them to the official story canon__. _This is a work intended for entertainment _outside the official storyline_ owned by CBS and the producers of NCIS:LA.

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><p><strong>Reviews appreciated and welcomed<strong>

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><p><strong>Assuage<strong>

**Chapter 17**

G awakened to the sensation of hair and skin being skinned off his forearm. He jerked his arms away from the hands touching him. His eyes fluttered open. "Sam?"

"Good evening, sweetheart."

"I don't remember getting here," he said.

"Remember me getting you drunk?"

"Yeah, and trying to seduce me." G kept a straight face.

"Right, you wrapped your arm around my waist and passed out."

"I did?"

"Yep, sorry, no sex," Sam said. "However, I took the opportunity to work on your body's newest wounds. Thankfully, it was more blood than injury. I just started to work on getting off the duct tape when you woke up."

"Too triggering."

"Have something more to drink." Sam offered G his glass of sherry.

"No real food?"

"Me."

"Food, Sam, I'm hungry."

"I'll order room service what would you like?"

"Same as we ate this morning."

"An eggs and bacon man," Sam said. "Now drink up. I need you relaxed to remove the tape."

G took the glass of sherry and downed a couple of sips. "Smooth," he said, licking his lips. "So does that mean you're not gonna shoot me up with muscle relaxants?"

"Yep." Sam sat on the side of the bed and dialed room service.

G reached over and stroked his lover's back. Tears formed in his eyes. Smooth, unblemished skin. He stopped.

"That was feeling good, sweetheart," Sam said, hanging up the phone and turning around. He surrounded his lover's shoulders. "I know that look."

"I need to get drunker to tell you." G drank more sherry. "Your skin… damn it." He took a few more swigs of alcohol. "Can't do this. Can't talk about this." He handed Sam his glass.

Sam slid down next to his lover. "Drink some more." He pushed the glass away.

G glanced at the remaining sherry in his glass, less than half remained in the bottom of it. "You definitely want me drunk." He finished the alcohol in a few long gulps. "Satisfied?" He presented his lover with the glass.

"Very." Sam took the glass and set it on the nightstand. "Now for something different."

G cringed hearing his lover say that word. "How different?"

"A game of sorts."

"I'm already not liking the sound of this… game."

"I think we need to do this before you are ready to make love."

"What?" The palms of G's hands sweated and he wiped them on the blanket.

"Let's eat first and then I'll give you the ground rules for the game." Sam grasped G's hands and kissed them. "The KK will be here by then."

"The KK?"

"Stuff to take this duct tape of your wrists and forearms."

"If you promise not to drug me."

"You won't need it, sweetheart." Sam kissed his lover's hands again.

A knock on the door announced the arrival of their dinner. They both devoured their meals in record time.

"Not sure who was hungrier that time," G said, noting how fast his lover scarfed up his bacon and eggs.

"I beat you by at least five-seconds."

"At least?" He downed the last drops of milk in his glass and grinned. "Try at least five minutes." G stood and walked over to the bedroom. "I'm ready for the game now."

"Yeah?" Sam stood and stretched and grabbed a jar of lotion off the table.

"Okay, what's with the lotion?"

"Part of the game," he said. "Lie down on the bed on your back."

"Exposure."

"Yeah, more free access to your whole body."

G's hands started to sweat hearing those words from his lover. _Free access to parts I am afraid to expose especially to him. _He wiped his now wet palms on his jeans.

"I promise I won't bite."

_Yeah, but you will look and I do not know if I can stomach that. _G laid down on his back and immediately crossed his arms.

"Arms at your sides."

"I don't know if—"

"Trust me?" Sam crossed the room and stood next to the bed.

"I trust you," G said, "but not with this."

"And that is why I made up this game," he said, sitting on the bed beside his lover. "I sensed that you don't trust me with your body after William tortured and abused you."

"Damn, you're too perceptive." _Now._

"Yep, comes with the territory of a partnership which is now on two levels."

_I knew this would happen. This is what I get for messing with the nature of our relationship. _

"Hands at your sides."

G allowed his hands to slide off his chest, resting them at his sides.

"I'm gonna touch your face and tell you the rules." He caressed his lover's face. G leaned into Sam's gentle touch. "I'll take a single finger of yours and dip it into the lotion. You'll choose where you want me to place your finger on your body."

"Okay, this is the weirdest thing you've ever done with me."

"Yep, it is and I suggest that you don't fight it," he said, continuing to caress his lover's face and head. "You've got issues with your body ever since William hurt you."

G sighed. "I'll give you that much."

"So you agree?"

"Yeah, and I hate it."

"Okay, we begin now," Sam said. "Where do you want me to touch your body?"

G swallowed hard, feeling as if there was a golf ball sized piece of food stuck in his throat. "My chest."

"Too general, I need specifics."

"Upper chest."

"Come on, G, you know that's not gonna fly with me."

"You drive a hard bargain and I'm not sure if I like these rules."

"Either you want to stop fighting yourself and surrender to a healing process," he said, "or you want to stay stuck in your fears."

G huffed out his sudden irritation. _If Sam was not here right now, I would turn over and go back to sleep. _Something deep inside him wanted to work through this all encompassing fear of his lover touching his body. "I want you to touch my nipples."

"Which nipple?"

"Come on, man, it has to be—"

"Yeah, specifics, sweetheart," Sam said, softening his tone.

G sighed. "My left nipple."

He grasped his lover's right index finger and dipped it into the jar of lotion. "Close your eyes for this first time." Sam took G's finger and brought it to his own chest. He pressed his lover's index finger to his left nipple.

G jerked his hand away from his lover's chest. "Sorry, automatic reaction."

"It's okay," he said. "A trial run. Take a deep breath in and slowly release it. Good. One more time." He watched his lover relax into the bed. "Even better. Here we go." Sam dipped his lover's finger into the lotion.

"Don't." His eyes opened and he gazed into his lover's brown ones. "I can't do it. I'm serious."

"Tell me what you think and feel and don't stop to analyze it."

"You'll see my… damn, you'll see where he mangled me."

"I see cross-hatched scars and marks on your chest and—"

"No!" G crossed his arms. "Stop telling me what you see. I can't handle hearing this… these descriptions."

"Arms at your sides."

"I can't do this and you don't understand," he said, huffing again and keeping his arms folded across his chest.

"Close your eyes and relax."

"No."

"Come on, G, I know you want to heal from what he did to you."

"Not if I have to touch a place he mangled."

"Tell me what he mangled, describe how he hurt you."

"What?"

"Remove your arms and tell me so I can see it."

G opened his arms and slid them down to his sides. "He… took them off."

"What off?"

"Damn it, I know you think I'm crazy for going there."

"I wouldn't say that," Sam said, "maybe a little off."

"I wanted him to finish what he started."

"And that was?"

"You can't see it?"

"See what, sweetheart?"

_I cannot even point my finger at it. _"My chest."

"I see the cross-hatched scars and that's about it."

"You're lying to me, trying to placate me."

"You should no by now I would never do either one," Sam said. "Give me your right index finger."

"I'm scared to do this."

"Trust me."

Crap. G held up his right hand.

Sam grasped and kissed his lover's hand, ending with his index finger. "Later, we'll take this duct tape off you." He dipped lover's finger into the jar of lotion.

"Don't hurt me." He shuddered and cringed, waiting for the horrid reality of touching anywhere on his own chest. G still refused to glance down at his chest while getting dressed. And mirrors. Forget mirrors. A glimpse of himself accidentally viewed in a mirror caused him to break out in a heavy sweat all over his body.

"I promise I won't, sweetheart." He moved both their hands toward his lover's chest. Sam gently pressed G's finger onto his left nipple.

G's jaw dropped. "It can't be."

"Can't be what?"

"It…." Tears welled up in his electric blue eyes. "He lied to me."

Sam guided his lover's finger over the nipple in widening circles.

"You trying to get me hot and bothered?" G asked, grinning wide.

"Is it working?"

"Yeah." He sighed.

"Then I am." Sam winked at him. "William lied to you about what?"

"First, touch my right nipple."

"Excellent, a specific request." He dipped his lover's index finger into the lotion and pressed the finger against his lover's now erect right nipple. Sam focused his attention on G's now neglected left nipple, alternating between massaging with his fingers to flicking his tongue across the sensitive top.

"Sam!" G wrapped left casted arm around the back of his lover's neck and pressed his chest into Sam's touch and mouth. "Tease."

"I see my ministrations are working well on your sensitive body."

G allowed his casted arm to slip off Sam's neck. "I sought out William for two reasons."

"I know the first one," Sam said. "For the first time since I've known you, your browser's history wasn't cleared. You wanted us to follow you and find him."

"Yeah, and secondly, I wanted him to finish what he began, mangling my body and killing me afterwards."

"He didn't mangle your body except for the cross-hatched scars riddled all over you."

"But he told me he did."

"There are some odd marks just below each nipple."

G squeezed his eyes shut and cringed. He jerked his hand away from Sam's hold.

"Easy, sweetheart, open those sexy blues and tell me about your flashback."

"Can't. Need to stop this. Can't do any more. I'm finished."

"We're not finished until you feel completely comfortable with your chest and touching it."

G turned his head away from his lover.

Sam grasped his lover's face in both hands and leaned in for a passionate kiss. "I want to make love to you, but the moment I touch your chest you freak out on me."

"He… I can't talk about this," G said, sighing. "I'm hideous."

"What?" He leaned back, releasing his lover's face. "You're the most beautiful man I know."

"I'm the only man you know, personally." He sniggered.

"Smart-ass." Sam sighed. "Come on, G, tell me what he did to you. Those odd marks are horizontal and mostly healed. A faint, raised line, that's all I see."

G cringed and shuddered.

"Give me your right index finger."

"Hell no!" He started to turn over toward his right side.

Sam climbed on top of his lover and straddled his hips. "Stay on your back."

"I don't want this," he said. "I don't care any more."

"You don't want me to make love to you?"

Crap. G gazed up into his lover's eyes. "I hate this, you know I want that."

"Yeah, I do, and you need to move beyond what William did to you."

He sighed and presented his lover with his right index finger.

"Thank you for trusting me with your body." Sam grasped his hand and kissed it. "I love you." He dipped G's finger into the lotion. "I'm gonna show you the scar. Ready?"

He nodded.

He guided his lover's finger to three inch long scar below G's left nipple. After placing the finger on one end of the scar, Sam rubbed G's finger along the length of the scar from right to left.

"I hardly feel anything."

"It is only a slightly raised scar without any scab," he said. "Now the other side." Sam placed G's finger on the horizontal scar tissue below his lover's right nipple, drawing it across the whole scar.

"Same on that side."

"What did William tell you?"

G shivered and cringed, pulling back on his right hand.

"Not yet, let me still hold your hand," Sam said. "You are safe now."

"He… men don't need nipples… damn it… that's what he said… they're superfluous tissue bumps is how he put it."

"Is that true for you?"

G glanced at his lover sideways.

Sam laid on his lover lengthwise, pressing his lips to G's left nipple and sucking on it.

G gasped and pressed his casted arm behind Sam's neck. "Yes, more."

He stopped. "Superfluous?"

"What are you doing, man, don't stop!"

"Are they superfluous?" Sam leaned in to suck and lick his lover's right nipple.

This time G held his lover's head in place over his nipple. "Don't you dare stop," he said, almost breathless from the incredible sensations flowing through his chest and body. When it became too intense he released his lover's head.

"Thought I was gonna suffocate on your _superfluous_ nipple." Sam sniggered.

"That's wicked, man." G grinned.

"Yep, and I'll ask you again, is that true for you?"

"No."

"I'm glad we established that fact." Sam climbed off his partner. "Let's try something different."

"A new game?"

He offered his lover a hand off the bed. "More like the preliminaries to making love." He drew G into his arms and hugged him. "You did well." Sam lead him into the bathroom and kept the light off over the sinks. He switched on the main light over the toilet and shower area.

G pulled backwards. "I can't."

Sam drew his partner into his body and turned him to face the sink. "Close your eyes, sweetheart, trust the process, trust me."

"I do but I freaked about even a glimpse of my chest in the mirror."

"With your new mindset and knowing that William failed to make good on his promises, I want you to imagine what your chest actually looks like." Sam drew his lover back into him. He massaged G's nipples with both hands.

"That's… damn, no words."

"Good, eyes closed?"

"Yeah."

"Relax into the massage and remember these are not superfluous pieces of tissue on your chest," Sam said. "For you, these are an erogenous zone that gets your sexual engine revved."

"Yeah, they do."

Sam licked and kissed the right side of lover's neck and finished sucking on his earlobe. G turned his head to meet his lover's mouth, wanting to kiss him. Sam enveloped his lover's mouth, forcing his tongue inside. G leaned backward into his lover's body. "Yeah, now we're closer."

"Closer?" G asked. "We're there."

"One more step before we make love."

"I have to look at my body."

"Yep, you do."

"I'm ready."

"Good, keep your eyes closed and steady yourself because I'm moving away from you for a moment." Sam approached the mirror and removed the blanket. Afterward, he stepped behind G once again and wrapped his arms around his lover's chest. "You ready?" G nodded. "Open your eyes and gaze into my eyes in the mirror. Keep your focus on me."

G opened his eyes and focused on his lover's eyes in the mirror. "I'm gonna look, okay?"

"Yep, whenever you are ready."

His eyes dropped to Sam's dark brown, powerful arms covering the pale skin on his chest. G's eyes moved down his torso, checking out the cross-hatched scars which riddled it.

"You okay?"

He nodded.

"I'm gonna remove one arm, ready?"

"Yeah." He stared, his mouth agape, at the nipple on his left side. Intact. Whole. Erect with excitement.

"And?"

"Thank you, Sam, please, it's okay, remove the other arm." With no hands covering his bare chest, G studied his unblemished nipples. He raised his right hand and smoothed it over his left nipple. Tears formed in his electric blue eyes. G stepped closer to the mirror and examined the scar below each nipple. Not much but raised skin as his partner had said. He lightly pressed his finger across the raised skin and switched to his right nipple, performing the same inspection of the scar below it. From there, G smoothed both of his hands down his torso, feeling the raised areas where there were cross-hatches. "He lied to me."

"Yep." Sam moved in closer to his lover and pressed his now fully naked body against his lover's back. "I want to make love to you."

"And I… want to make love to you." G turned around to face his lover. "Please undress me."

"My pleasure."

"I…" G drew Sam into a passionate kiss, forcing his tongue deep inside his mouth. "Please make love to me. I need you." G wrapped his arms around Sam's waist and kissed him again. "I love you."

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><p><strong>The End.<strong>

**Thank you for reading my story.**


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